In Hiding
by wham-bam-vandam
Summary: Daphnaie was a nymph, a dryad, a servant of the forest. For as long as she can remember she has lived in solitude, keeping watch over the trees. Would she give up her safety, her power, her immortality to save one man?
1. Chapter 1

**Authors note- ok so this is my first story so go easy on me, however, I'm not one to refuse constructive criticism. Anyways, I hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing affiliated with The Lord of the Rings and any similarities to any other fanfictions you've read is purely accidental.**

**Prologue - Sacrifice**

She was a nymph, a dryad, a servant of the forest. Not born this way but rather re-born. She had died too young. The Valar who had marveled at her beauty during her life could not bare to see her leave the world so soon so they gave her immortality and power and turned her into this, and much to the their delight, the blessings they bestowed upon her increased her loveliness.

Her beauty was immense and etherial. With her waste-length raven hair, porcelain skin, long legs, and glowing violet eyes, she was a vision, not that anyone ever saw her other than the Valar. She lived always in the forest, and always in hiding. Man would covet such a thing as her, she knew, and she could not be removed from the forest. She was its guardian, its keeper. She did not think herself vain. No, certainly not. Only lowly humans could be vain. She was above that. She simply took excessive pride in her appearance. That's all.

When she was not roaming the forest, she became a laurel tree, tall and ever watchful. She had been this way for a millennia. She felt the mood of the forest shift as time passed, and through the trees she could gather information about the world so distant from her. She new something was different, something was wrong but she remained hidden, always hidden, alone but for the occasional traveler and the wind. She never felt especially lonely however. She could not remember anything of her previous life, so she didn't know what companionship felt like. There was nothing to miss, nothing to long for. Indeed she longed for nothing, content to live amongst the flowers and the birds. Today it seemed, however, that her solitude had ended.

A battle was taking place today. All around her swords and axes and other menacing weapons glimmered in the sunlight. She stayed still and silent throughout the battle. She was afraid. There were so many around her, far more beings than she had ever encountered all at once before. It was overwhelming. She recognized a few of the creatures as men, a dwarf, and an elf, but the littler beings were a mystery to her, as were the monsters—hideous creatures with fangs and a thirst for blood. She saw them and knew her decision to hide had been the right one.

What were these creatures? Why were they here? It was unnerving not to have the answers. All these years her knowledge had seemed so great. Here in the forest, she knew everything. Never had a question gone unanswered before. Could it be she was not as all-knowing as she had thought?

The Valar had warned her never to reveal herself to man. As she could not remember her first life, she supposed she could not trust her own judgement on the matter and she had faith in the Valar, so whenever a man approached she turned instantly into the simple, unimpressive laurel.

The gods had told her man was violent, arrogant, selfish, and cruel, but as she watched a lone man defend the two smaller beings she began to doubt the gods' tales. The man was tall and broad. His impressive size and steadfastness brought to mind a boulder. She was in awe of him. He fought bravely against the beasts, with no regard to himself, trying to protect the halflings. She wanted to help him, but her fear kept her still. After all what could she do? Trip the beasts with a vine? No, it was best she stay out of the way. She watched on dismayed as he was struck down by one...two...three arrows and still tried to fight. Was this really a man? He seemed more of a heroic and powerful god to her eyes.

His mortality soon became apparent to her, however, as he lay shaking, coughing, dying leaned up against her trunk. His companions had driven off the remaining beasts and now said goodbye as his life faded quickly. Their faces held a shared expression, one she had never experienced before. She had heard of it, and thought perhaps she could identify it. Could this mysterious emotion be...sadness? How dreadful! It seemed terrible. Before today she had been curious but now she hoped never to feel such a retched emotion herself.

She could not feel real sadness for the man but she felt a great sympathy for his companions. How terrible for them to lose such a man who had only minutes before seemed so mighty. She thought surely he could have provided much needed aid to a world in turmoil. She longed to help him. She new a great deal about the plants in the forest and could perhaps have healed him were his wounds not so severe, but it was pointless to dwell on that for the life-breath was already gone from him.

An idea popped into her mind. No, she could not do that. That was a foolish plan. Laughable. But as she looked down upon the dying man again—his skin pale, his clothes tattered and bloody—her heart cried out. She had never seen a man die before. It was too much for her sheltered heart to bare. She had to do something. It seemed her mind was made up.

She transformed back into a girl and held the mans head in her lap. She looked up to the heavens and cried out, " Whatever blessings you have given me, whatever power over death I have been granted, let it pass on to him!" She was met only with silence. Determined now she cried out a second time, pleading with the Valar "Please spare him, I beg you!"

Suddenly it seemed as though all of the energy was slowly draining out of her. She looked down at her hands in horror, and saw the glow that had so long emanated from within her diminishing before her eyes. Panic took hold of her. She tried to stand but quickly stumbled and fell back to the soft earth. Its warmth comforted her as her vision blurred and finally went black. But just before she fell into oblivion, she thought she saw the man stir.

**OK chapter 1=finished**

**any thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- thanks very much for your input Abnormal-Amy8D. I rewrote the first chapter so hopefully it's better now. Anyways, on to chapter 2**

**Chapter 2**

She awoke with a start, shooting upright and narrowly missing the man who it seemed had been kneeling over her. She froze. The man! He was alive! She stared over at him and he stared back at her, wearing a shocked expression. He looked perfect. Whole. Her heart soared for an instant, then she remembered why he was healed...what she had done.

She shot up, pushing some heavy material off of her—what was it, a cloak?—and sped off , headed for a nearby stream. The man reached out to stop her but missed, and so he hurriedly stood to make chase. He needed to speak with this strange woman who seemed to be responsible for his miraculous recovery. He needed answers, and he was going to get them. His exhaustion from the battle had not dissipated though, and he wore heavy armor so he lagged behind her.

"My lady, wait! Please, come back!" But she barely heard him, her distress was so great. Trees flew by, just a blur, as she sprinted through the forest. The rocks and twigs on the ground hurt her feet, the wind whipped her hair into her eyes, that voice behind kept yelling for her to stop, but she noticed none of it. Her mind was only on one thing. How much had she changed? How much had the Valar now stripped from her?

When she arrived at the small stream, she fell to her knees and peered down at her reflection. She was still pretty to be sure, but she was not the same. That mystical quality, that utter perfection she had been was gone. Her hair no longer shimmered. Dirt and leaves already clung to it. Her eyes had transformed from an entrancing violet to a warm brown. Warm? Who was she kidding? They were dull and muddy and ugly. Her eyes were not the worst of it, however. The inner light that had once shown from inside of her, that light that made her skin, her very being, seem to glow, was now completely and utterly absent. The magic was gone. She was pale and bland. Sickly, she thought. Human.

She looked up in desperation. She had to speak to the Valar again, beg them to turn her back, to reverse this curse. Surely she could convince them this was all just a foolish mistake made when she was overwhelmed. Before she could speak a word, however, a hand came down on her shoulder. She jumped in shock and quite nearly fell into the water, but the mysterious hand caught her and pulled her upright again. She turned away from the stream and came face to face with that man again, that horribly bothersome man. What more could he possibly want from her?

"Why... did you... run... from me?" He asked between gasps for air. He was still trying to get his breathing back to normal after that sprint. Ridiculous woman. Healing him and then making him run after her. No regular healer would have him overexert himself like that. This was all very peculiar.

She eyed him for a moment, making up her mind about him. She supposed she should try to befriend him seeing as she had very few options now. She would answer his questions.

"I wasn't running from you. I needed to come here, to the stream." A confused expression passed over him.

"May I ask why you had to depart so suddenly?" She thought this a strange question. She wanted to go, so she left. Did he expect her to ask permission or announce her departure? She would try to remember to do that in the future. Humans must just have strange customs.

"I needed to see how changed I am. I needed to see what I will look like from now on." If it was possible, he looked even more puzzled.

"What do you mean? Changed from what exactly?" She was beginning to get annoyed with these obvious questions. Had she sacrificed everything for an idiot?

"From a dryad of course." Her tone slightly clipped now.

"A dryad? My apologies for now you have lost me entirely. Perhaps we should start from the beginning." He gave her a small smile. "I am Boromir son of Denathor." He looked at her expectantly. She didn't say anything. "Now it's your turn," he prodded.

"My turn for what?"

"To introduce yourself."

Silence.

"What's your name?"

"My name? I…I…" She searched her memory. The Valar had called her something hadn't they? Of course they had, but what? "I can't remember," she admitted slightly embarrassed.

"You can't remember?"

"That is was I said, isn't it?" She was defensive now. "It has been too long since anyone has used my name. I don't remember anymore." The look on his face said he did not believe her. Why should she lie about this? "Just call me Laurel for now. I'm sure my name will come to me."

"Laurel? As in the tree?"

"Exactly."

"Very well then."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Fine." There was an awkward pause.

"How long is 'too long'?" he finally asked.

"What?"

"How long has it been since someone called you by your name?" She thought about that for a second.

"Hmmm. I'm….. not sure about that either. A few centuries perhaps?" His eyes bulged at this response.

"Centuries? Either you jest or you are a mad woman." She stood up, affronted, and walked a few paces away. He quickly averted his eyes from her.

"I assure you I am not mad and this is certainly no jest! I have lived here for more than a few centuries." She turned back to face him and saw his back was to her.

"I do not understand," he said. "How can that be?" Her anger did not calm.

"I was a dryad, a protector of the forest, blessed by the Valar with immortality." The words were difficult to get out now as she realized she would never have that life again. The Valar don't give gifts like that every day. That life was lost forever.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was in the presence of an immortal being! One that was not an elf. It was incredible. But something about what she had said bothered him…quietly he spoke again.

"Was?" She was brought out of her reverie.

"Excuse me?"

"You said 'was a dryad'." Her anger faded replaced with sad longing.

"Yes, that's right. The girl who stands before you now is only human. I gave up my beauty, my life here in the forest, my immortality, everything."

"Forgive me but what possible reason could you have to do that?" Her anger flared up again. His tone implied he thought her decision was a foolish one. He thought her foolish did he? Well she would have to agree.

"I did it for you, to save your life. You were dead, and I panicked. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't myself." Even at this news, he didn't turn to face her. This angered her even more. "The very least you could do now is look at me when I am speaking to you!" She quickly quieted, ashamed of her outburst. Just because he was acting uncivil did not mean she should. He turned around slowly but closed his eyes.

"Forgive me madam, I did not mean to offend. I simply….ah…" He paused awkwardly "You see…in Gondor the clothes you are wearing would be considered scandalously… inappropriate. Please, take this." He held his cloak out to her.

She looked down at herself. She had once made a dress out of deerskin but she found the fabric confining. She felt infinitely freer while running through the forest in the light-weight vines she had tied around herself that she now wore. They were tightly wrapped all around her body. Before today, they never snapped or withered. They stayed perfect as if by….she sighed. Magic. Now, however, the regular passage of time was beginning to take its toll, and the vines were browning and falling apart. They still covered everything important though, so she did not see the problem. If it made him uncomfortable though, she supposed she could wear that silly cloak. She took it from him and draped it around herself. It was so heavy! How would she ever get used to this?

She looked up at him. His eyes were still closed. A small smile graced her features. How ridiculous this man was. Perhaps she wouldn't always regret her decision to save him…maybe. "You may open your eyes now." By the time he opened them, her smile had vanished. "What now?" she asked.

"Now I must find my friends, and rescue the hobbits." She saw it. That grandeur, that determination he had fought with before—the reason she had saved him—was back in his eyes. She wasn't expecting him to want to rejoin the fight so soon after his life was restored but she supposed she should have guessed he would. His fighting spirit had survived just as much as him. Well then she would join him. Perhaps she could still do some good even as a human.

"The hobbits, those were the little beings those monsters carried away?"

"Yes, yes. Those 'monsters' are Uruk-hai, and they are surely many miles from here by now so I must make haste." He began swiftly walking away but turned back after only a few steps. "Do you know where my friends were headed after they left me? It is very important I meet up with them as soon as possible." She walked towards him but continued past him.

"Yes, I believe they were headed back this way towards the Anduin. I believe they were going to chase after the, what did you call them, Uruk-hai?" He strode past her in a rush.

"They must have been headed towards our place of camp. I'll start there. Thank you." She reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Wait! I'll come with you, help you find them." He looked down at her, incredulous.

"It will be dangerous, certainly no place for a woman." She stared back up at him, a fire in her eyes.

"You can't just leave me here. You have to take me with you."

It was true. He couldn't leave her here alone. More of those foul beasts could still be near. She had just saved his life. Was he to repay her by abandoning her to die?

"Very well, you may accompany me." She faced forward again, keeping pace with him, a contented gleam in her eye.

He kept his eyes on her for a moment longer. He didn't trust her. He believed she had saved his life, there was no other explanation, but the other parts of her story were a tad difficult for him to believe. She could be, and probably was, a spy sent by Saruman to befriend him and learn secrets of their quest. Well, he would not fail his friends a second time. No, he would have to keep a very close eye on her.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N- Sorry I took so long! I had to take the SAT and the ACT. Finger crossed I did well! Anyways, on we go chapter three. Here it comes. Get ready!**

**Ps. Review please:) all of the cool kids are doing it. **

**Chapter 3. **

Boromir hurriedly led the way back to the camp site at the river's edge, his rapid pace revealing his distress, with Laurel following closely at his heels. When the pair arrived, Boromir immediately began rummaging through the remaining supplies. Laurel just stood for a moment, surveying the camp. It seemed as though most of the packs and supplies were still there. It was obvious that when the elf, dwarf, and man were last at the site, the three had left in a hurry. Various items were strewn about as if haphazardly tossed aside while two of the three searched for a few necessary things. The third must have busied himself putting out the fire with a bowl of stew maybe, but had been careless and missed a corner. A small section still smoldered. The bowl was then dropped and now rested upturned upon the ash. The three then hastily departed, or at least Laurel did not perceive any evidence suggesting otherwise.

"It looks as though they took very little with them," she heard Boromir say as he finished gathering items into two small packs.

"They must have wanted to travel light," she replied unsurprised.

"Indeed. So must we. Here." He handed her some balled up clothes. She took them from him, puzzled.

"What are these?" He stood up, slinging one pack over his shoulder and holding the other in his opposite hand.

"Those are some of Legolas' clothes as he is the closest to your size. Hurry and put them on so that we may depart. Time is of the essence now." Pleased, she waited for Boromir to turn around then quickly slid into the pants and green tunic. They were in fairly good condition though the knees of the pants seemed a little worn. The tunic was a soft fabric and displayed some strange embroidery on the sleeves, vines and leaves in silver thread. Legolas might have been just a tad over dressed for this outing. She rolled her eyes. Typical elf. The clothes fit for the most part, though they were a little loose. Legolas must be slightly larger than herself. Anything was better than that cloak though, she decided. How can any one piece of clothing be so heavy? She snatched the second pack from Boromir and the two promptly sped off after the trio, sure to be miles behind them by now.

They made it out of the forest fairly quickly, and were greeted by the vast plains of Rohan; she had never seen anything like it before. How incredible to see something new, something fresh after such monotony for so long! The forest was beautiful, sure. She loved the forest. She was not challenging that, but these fields... they were new and breathtaking. They spanned outward like a golden ocean, not that she had ever seen an ocean for herself either, with wind-made waves and ripples. Yes, the forest was plenty fine and nice but these fields had a different air about them. They were open and inviting. They warmed her.

"What are you doing? Come on!" Boromir yelled from in front of her, bringing her from her thoughts. How had he gotten so far ahead?

"Sorry! Coming!" She sped back up to join him again.

Boromir proved an able, if slow, tracker. Though he always found the path, it sometimes took him… quite a while. Laurel consistently spotted the trail before him. Having lived in the wilderness for so long, it was easy for her, almost second nature, to spot anything out of place, any unnatural changes to the land—a broken twig, a crushed plant, a slight impression of a footprint in the dirt. They all screamed out to her, alerting her that someone or something had been there. At first, she said nothing. She was not very sure of herself and she did not want to hurt his pride if she could avoid it, but soon it became apparent that she would have to speak up if the two of them ever wanted to get anywhere, let alone catch up with the trio.

Boromir had lost the trail once more and presently was searching for it. He seemed to be having a difficult time of it…..well, she decided, it was now or never.

"Forgive me, Boromir, but I believe I have spotted the trail over here." She pointed to an area several paces to the left of where Boromir was currently searching. He turned and looked up at her, a condescending smile appearing on his face. This was going to test her patience.

"No, Laurel, I am fairly certain the trail continues over here but thank you." He then turned and proceeded down _his _trail. She took a deep breath. She would not lose her temper.

"Oh Boromir..." He stopped and turned to look at her once more. His eyes questioned her: what now? "Please, just humor me for a moment. Will you take a look over here?" He smiled again.

"Of course, but after this we really must continue on. We are about to lose the light." She took another deeper deep breath. If she could just stay calm, surely he would see she was right.

"See. Look here." She kneeled down and pointed to a spot on the ground. "Do you see that indention in the ground there? It looks to me like a partial foot print. The shape suggests a large boot. I was thinking it could perhaps be from the dwarf." She stood and looked over his shoulder as he gazed down intently at the print for a moment. The corners of his mouth turned down into a slight frown. He then stood and shook his head.

"No, that my lady is a hoof print. Come now let's go." A hoof print? A hoof print he says! Well, she would not allow him to run off blindly in the wrong direction. She stayed firmly rooted, refusing to move from her position near the print. She was done playing the respectful, obedient maiden for now.

"Are you blind? I'm sorry but that is no hoof print. The shape is all wrong. It _has_ to be from one of your friends," she stated firmly. He looked at her in disbelief, but his disbelief quickly shifted to annoyance.

"Please Laurel; I believe we should defer to my judgment in this matter I—"

"Why?" she jumped in, not quite shouting but certainly not speaking quietly anymore. "Because you are a man? Because you are a soldier?" Let me tell you something, sir. I lived in the forest for centuries before you were born, I think I can identify a footprint in the grass, thank you very much!" Boromir looked taken aback. He clearly did not expect her to question his judgment let alone lose her temper.

"Yes I—I'm sure you can. I just do not…" Arms outstretched, she pleaded with him.

"Do not what? I promise you this is the trail. Can you not just trust me?" A strange look appeared in his eyes at that. They narrowed slightly, and peered down at her, seemingly thinking hard about something. Before she could figure out what, though, he looked away. When he turned back, his eyes had returned to normal.

"Very well then. I will trust you. Perhaps I am so used to commanding that I have forgotten how to except help. I apologize, Lady Laurel. I would not want my pride to get in the way of our goal. Then he smiled at her, a sweet, apologetic smile, and her anger melted away. She felt a little foolish, forgiving his stubbornness so easily. But he had apologized had he not? And though she doubted the truthfulness of his words, his expression proclaimed sincere regret. She did not smile back at him though. She could not let him think she was just another female, easily led by a charming…Charming? She had not meant that. It was just an expression. She did not find him charming in the least.

"Yes, well—thank you," she replied not quite knowing how to respond to his concession. "We better get a move on now. You are right. We are losing the night." They traveled in silence for a long while after that.

Boromir glanced at Laurel out of the corner of his eye. He felt foolish for denying her. She had clearly been right but he just could not find it in him to trust her. Why was she so eager to help him find the way? What did she want with his friends? When she had stopped him, he had assumed she wanted to mislead him, send him off the path, but perhaps he had jumped to conclusions. Her true plan must be much more complex. She was a very good liar too. She looked so sincere in her desire to help. Her sincerity even touched her eyes. He had met plenty of brilliant liars in his time but there was always something in the eyes if you looked closely enough, something not quite right. Well, he might as well not dwell on it. It was not important for him to figure out all of her devilish schemes right at this moment. If she planned to help him find his friends quickly, then that was fine with him. Perhaps he should say something to her now, assure her he was not upset about the argument. If he kept up this silent treatment too long, she was likely to suspect his misgivings about her.

"Laurel, how are—are you alright?" Her head snapped up from her searching to look at him. She was clearly surprised he had spoken. What? Was he not permitted to be nice?

"Oh—um—yes. I am—I am quite fine, thank you." She sputtered nervously. She paused before continuing. "I am sorry. I—the growing darkness is making it very difficult for me to see the trail now. Do you—do you not think it best to make camp for the night? I fear if we continue on, we might stray." Strange that she was so confident before and so timid now. Was she afraid he would snap at her? He sighed inwardly. He was not about to trust her, but there was something in him that did not want her to fear him. He preferred her fiery temper to this hesitance. He sighed outwardly now.

"Yes, I believe that would be wise, and better to settle into a defensible position then to walk into a fight in the dark." They marched on a little farther before he decided on an acceptable stopping point. They set up camp in silence, just a couple sleeping mats under the stars. They could not risk a fire in such an open area. Enemies could too easily spot it.

Boromir watched the stars for a time before falling asleep. He was worried. In spite of their efforts, he and Laurel were moving too slow. Maybe tracking Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli was not the wisest path, but he did not know what else to do. Perhaps some clarity would arrive with the rising sun. Maybe tomorrow would clear away the brush and reveal a better road for him to take. He could only hope.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: First I must apologize again for taking forever! I really will try to update more frequently. Second I must thank Mundster Madman for your review. That was the nicest thing! You're gonna give me a big head. **

**Anyways on to the next chapter…**

**Ch. 4**

Laurel woke before dawn. She got up from her mat, briefly glancing over at Boromir. He was on his side, one hand grasping his sword the other bent inward pillowing his head. She wasn't worried about waking him. He was clearly still sound asleep. She sighed. She had not slept well. She walked over to a large, flat rock, about four feet high, nearby and hoisted herself up onto it, so she could easily see the surrounding fields. She sat down on it, tucking her knees to her chest. She desperately wanted the sun to rise. Nightmares had plagued her in her sleep, dreams of terrible monsters, howling beasts brandishing sharp swords, a white hand emblazoned on their helmets. She tried to hide but could not, tried to run but her legs would not move, tried to scream but found herself frozen in terror as the beasts surrounded her, beating their chests and jumping towards her. She couldn't remember what happened next in the dream. He recollection just faded to black. The more she tried to picture it the more it slipped away. No great loss, she supposed. Whatever had happened was surely just as horrific as the rest of the dream.

Either way if the sun did not come up soon, she might burst into tears. She wasn't scared anymore, not really. Just upset. Disturbed even. She tried not to focus on it anymore, turning her thoughts instead to _why _she had dreamed such horrors. She never had nightmares. It wasn't because she had slept outside—she always slept outside—no, it was because she felt…different. It was the first time she had tried to sleep since turning mortal, she realized. She had lived such a long time and now death was on her doorstep. She probably had 70 maybe even 80 years left to live but death felt so..close to her now. If only the sun would rise then she would feel better. It couldn't be much longer. The fields around her already held a bluish-grey tint from the pre-dawn light. Back home in the forest this was her favorite time of day. The dim morning light transformed everything into something ethereal, made her feel closer to the Valar she so revered, but now it just felt ghostly, haunted.

She smiled. She could see the top of the sun peaking over the horizon now. She waited there a while as it rose, flooding the field with gold and chasing the ghosts away. It rose up away from the earth too soon. She waited just a moment longer. Eyes closed, she allowed herself to simply bask in the warmth. Then she turned, regretfully, to wake Boromir.

Rather than get down from her perch she opted to throw some smaller stones at Boromir to rouse him. Her first toss missed. So did her second. Wow, she was pathetic. She managed to hit him on the third try, but he did not move. She tried again, this time hitting him square in the back of the head. He groaned quietly, and rolled over onto his chest. This was getting nowhere. The man was a deep sleeper. She got up stiffly and hopped down from the rock, slowly making her way towards Boromir.

"Boromir. Oh Boromir," she whispered, drawing out the name in a sing-song voice. "Won't you please get up?" Still there was no movement. She tried again a little louder. "Boromir, what is that you are doing. Sleeping? That's adorable, truly, but we really should be off." Absolutely no response. She rolled her eyes. "Boromir! Get up!" she commanded. "You are wasting the day away!" Boromir lifted his head. His eyes slowly opened, and he glanced lazily over at Laurel.

"What, what? What is the matter?" he said rather groggily. If something was wrong he would certainly be no help in this state.

"Oh nothing," she replied nonchalantly. "I just thought you might like to start the day now, what with the sun being up and all." He snorted.

"Yes, well—alright." He said, a small grin on his face. "Let's be off." They quickly stowed their mats and Boromir broke off a bit of Lembas for them to share, then they were on the move again. They picked up the trail in no time at all, and Boromir was doing a better job of keeping on the trail so Laurel allowed her thoughts to drift. She thought of home, the tall trees that had been her companions, the animals she had looked after. She thought of all she had learned in her time and wondered if it would still be of use to her now. She thought of the Valar and the few conversations they had shared over the many years…

"Daphnaie!" She shouted suddenly, startling Boromir beside her. Lightning quick he pulled her behind him and shouted back.

"Where?" He scanned the horizon through narrowed eyes. "Where do you see them?..wait, what? What did you say?" he said turning to face her. "What are you talking about?"

"It's my name. I've only just remembered it." She smiled brightly at him, delighted to have recovered this small piece of her old life.

"Your name?.." He asked stunned. He seemed to be having some trouble reconciling that they were not in fact about to be attacked.

"Yes, yes my name!" She repeated. "It just came to me suddenly." Boromir just stared at her. She pulled him along, and they started back on the trail again. The movement seemed to help him gather his wits about him.

"Daphnaie you say? That's… nice." His fierce expression softened to a thoughtful grin.

"Nice?" Daphnaie asked.

"Yes, nice. It is a nice name. Pretty." He seemed satisfied with that description. Daphnaie was less so.

"Oh, why thank you. You flatter me greatly." She said. Her tone was clearly sarcastic but her playful smile took the edge off. Boromir smiled back at her.

"Oh for pity's sake, what now?"

"No no, please no more. You'll make me blush." He laughed loudly now.

"What? It is just your name. What would you have me say?"

"Just tell me what you think of it." She replied, a little more seriously. Boromir thought for a moment

" Okay. I find it a little odd. It sounds a bit strange to my ears. Not bad, just strange," he added noticing her less-than-happy expression. I do not know that I have ever met anyone with such a name." Daphnaie remained silent for a moment before bursting out.

"Well you are one to talk!" Her outburst did not appear to offend him.

"And just what do you mean by that?" he asked calmly.

" Boromir," she said, screwing her face up into a disgusted look, "is hardly a normal name." Again, rather than be offended, Boromir just looked amused.

"I'll have you know that Boromir is a perfectly normal Gondorian name. In fact it is a noble name, given to me by my father in tribute to Gondor's eleventh steward, Boromir. He was a brilliant warrior and leader. He did great things, very great things, for my people." Boromir turned serious. "I am honored to share his name." Dahnaie considered that for a moment. It was strange seeing him so thoughtful. Yesterday she hardly thought him capable of thinking! She would have to ask him more about his lineage—later though, for now she could hardly give him the satisfaction of acknowledging the nobility of his name.

"Whatever you say, my lord Boring-mir." Boromir instantly lost his thoughtful expression.

"Ha! What did you call me?"

"I am not sure what you are referring to, my lord." He rolled his eyes, opting not to respond to that, and looked towards the horizon again. They walked on in comfortable silence for a while. As the day went on, their conversations remained civil. Boromir told Daphnaie of Gondor and of his many days spent defending his land on the battle field. Daphnaie in turn shared stories of her times in the forest—animals she'd cared for, stories she'd heard from travels. Daphnaie felt she might just be warming up to Boromir.

The next few days passed by in much the same way. It was now five days since Boromir's death and after all that time devoted to searching for the trio and the hobbits they did not find any indication that they were catching up. Still, with no other apparent options they continued on. Discouragement festered in Daphnaie's heart. She needed to figure something else out. This chase was getting them nowhere. Suddenly she was pushed from the side and fell roughly to the ground narrowly missing a large rock they had been walking past. She landed heavily on her shoulder. A sharp pain shot down her arm. She looked up angrily to see Boromir crouched down at her side. "What are you do—" Boromir dropped his hand to cover her mouth, silencing her.

"Shh! Look, there." He whispered indicating for her to look in the direction they'd been headed. She sat up slowly and peered over the top of the rock. She spotted them instantly, two figures in the distance. They were headed in her and Boromir's general direction but not straight for them, so she concluded that Boromir had spotted the pair before the strangers had noticed them. Good thing too, for even from this distance she could tell that they were not the sort of characters she would particularly like to stop and chat with. Their walk was a sort of crouching, laboring gait, and each was carrying something.

Weapons she realized with dread. As they moved closer she could start to make out what they looked like. As soon as she could see them clearly, she gasped and hid behind the boulder again. It was more of those monsters, smaller than the ones from before but just as hideous and just as terrifying. She looked over at Boromir for some assurance. His hand was clasped around the hilt of his sword, slowly removing it from its sheath, and was he…? Yes. She could not believe it. He was smiling. Did he actually want to fight? Unbelievable. Hadn't the man died less than a week ago? Had he already forgotten how fragile he truly was? Daphnaie didn't know whether to be impressed by his bravery or irritated by his foolishness. Clearly death did not carry the same demons for him as it did for her

She risked a quick glance over the top once more. The beasts were almost on top of them now! Boromir grabbed her arm and pulled her close, looking her right in the eyes.

"Stay down," he commanded. She just nodded, too scared to speak. He jumped up then and sprinted towards the beasts. They were too surprised to act quickly enough. Before they had raised their weapons, Boromir sliced the head off the first one, a gruesome sight. That had given the second one time to brandish his weapon, but he was still no match for Boromir. After beating down his feeble attempts to defend himself, Boromir thrust his sword through the beast's chest. He fell to the ground in a heap but remained conscious a few moments longer. "Filthy Orc," she heard Boromir mutter.

Boromir knelt down beside the creature and grabbed the collar of its shirt, if you could call it a shirt. It was more like scraps of cloth hastily sewn together. "Were you among those who captured the hobbits?" Boromir demanded. "What has happened to them? Tell me!" A horrible gurgling noise came from the orc then. Blood dripped down the side of its mouth. And it was laughing.

"So it's the haflings you're after eh? Don't imagine you'll be findin' them to soon, hehe." Boromir looked furious.

"Why not? What's happened to them?" The orc smiled a horrible fang-toothed smile.

"The horsemen caught up with us last night. They don't leave nothin' alive." The orc started to laugh again then, but the laughs mixed with great racking coughs and soon the beast silenced. Boromir tossed his corpse aside, then let loose a pain filled scream. Daphnaie got up from behind the rock and walked to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't listen to it Boromir. Creatures like that are only capable of falsehoods and trickery. Don't lose hope. Please." She hated to see him reduced to this. Anything was better than seeing him in pain. He sighed and bowed his head, placing his hand atop hers.

"Perhaps you are right. Either way, there is no point continuing down our current course."

"So you are just going to give up?" She accused, pulling her hand away in disgust.

"No! No, but whether or not the orc was right about the fate of the hobbits I do believe his account of the horse lords. Why else would he abandon his company if not to escape a slaughter? And if the rider's of Rohan _did _attack, they might have recovered the hobbits. I only see two possibilities. Either the hobbits are truly dead," his expression turned pained at that, " or the riders have taken them." Neither possibility particularly pleased Daphnaie.

"Where do we go from here then?" she asked, truly curious. Boromir's expression hardened.

"To Edoras."

**A/N: Ok that's it! I was trying to build Boromir and Daphnaie's relationship a little more, just so it didn't feel like they were total strangers anymore, and I wanted to kind of get the ball rolling, plot wise. What did you think of it?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I know, I know, I take forever. No excuse. But wait no longer! Here's chapter 5 just for you. Special thanks to all of those who reviewed. You are the best! I've decided to add a little 'time elapsed' note at the start of the chapters so you can tell how much time is passing. I'll do my best but it gets a little confusing in the books, so I apologize if the timeline gets a little messed up. Also, I don't think I mentioned it before but story-wise I'll be pulling from the book or the movie depending on which version of events I like better. Now for a little Boromir introspection..**

**Chapter 5:**

_( 6 days since Boromir's "Death")_

Boromir was not sure what to think. He was sure Laurel—Daphnaie—whoever, was some kind of spy. She had to be. She was just so completely unlike any spy he had ever heard of or encountered before. She had yet to question him with regards to the quest, she argued with him rather than "trust" his lead (how did she expect to win him over that way?) and she was so…afraid. Every time they ran into the least bit of trouble, she would freeze in terror. He suspected she was having nightmares also. It was bizarre. He did not understand why Saruman would send such a coward.

Perhaps she was not truly another minion of Saruman, but simply an innocent girl coerced by fear into doing Saruman's bidding. No. He silenced that thought quick as it had come. No one who agreed to work for Saruman could be anything but a monster, no matter what sort of well crafted front she put up. Still, he hated to admit even to himself that sometimes he forgot he could not trust her. Just for a moment when she flashed him one of those rare smiles, he would forget she was not truly his friend. He was ashamed of that. Was he so desperate for companionship that he would latch on to any that was presented to him?

"You are awfully quiet this morning," Daphnaie said, a smile in her voice though she kept it from her delicate features. "What could you possibly be thinking so hard about?" He peered over at her, trying to make his expression look annoyed. He did not want to give her the impression that this teasing was even remotely okay, though he did not truly mind.

"Just going through different scenarios of what might come to pass when we reach Edoras," he made up quickly. "I do not want to be taken by surprise." Her expression morphed into an overly exaggerated look of complete shock. She looked ridiculous. "What?"

"You surprise me Boromir. I did not think you had it in you."

"Have what in me? The ability to think and plan ahead?"

"Precisely." He laughed aloud. He knew he ought to be annoyed. Back in Gondor, if one of his men spoke to him this disrespectfully, he would have more than a few words for the soldier. But she was just so innocent. He did not mind letting her poke fun at him, in fact, he almost enjoyed the banter, though he would never own to it.

It was past noon when they finally arrived at the gate to Edoras. No one was guarding the entrance to the city, so the pair just walked right in.

"What is that large building?" Daphnaie pointed ahead of them, genuine curiosity shining in her eyes. "That one at the top of the rise?" It never failed to amaze him how many questions she had, how little she seemed to know. It was one of the reasons he had difficulty believing her Dryad story. How could one so old, know so very little? He had spent the last few days educating her on all he knew of the known races in the present age: Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, Wizards, Orcs, Goblins, Uruk-Hai, and Man. Most of her questions centered on Rohan and Gondor. He spoke to her at length of Rohan's horses and of his own majestic city, Minas Tirith, but he made sure to steer clear of any information on either peoples' military defenses. Any sensitive information she passed along to Saruman about chinks in either nation's armor, she would not gain from him.

"That is the Golden Hall, where the king sits. That is where we are headed."

"Oh," she replied simply.

Boromir grew nervous as they walked through the city. It was so quiet. Where were the people? If the city had been raided like the villages of the west fold, the city would be in ruins, burned to the ground. But everything was still intact. Everything remained but the people.

"What happened here?" he whispered aloud, glancing around solemnly but with worried eyes. They made their way warily up the slope to the Golden Hall, but even as they reached the large building they were not approached by guards.

They walked slowly up the great stone steps and Boromir pushed open the enormous doors at the entrance of the Hall. Grand Tapestries lined the walls, proclaiming Rohan's history. The King's throne sat proudly at the end of the Hall, but the king himself was not present. A group of men armored and armed sat together at a small rectangular table with benches on either side to the far right of the hall. Their eyes widened and they stood gripping their swords when they saw the pair enter. They made no move forward, but one man called out to them.

"You are within the realm of Theoden King. Identify yourselves travelers!" Boromir stepped in front of Daphnaie like a shield. He had not brought her here to be struck down by his own allies.

"I am Boromir, son of Denethor, Captain of the White Tower, and friend to Rohan. Where is the king? Why do you sit in his hall in his stead?" Boromir called back to him, his voice confident and strong. The soldier who had spoken to them stepped forward and began walking towards them. He was tall, older than the rest, with a mop of scraggly strawberry blond hair, turning white at the crown, which fell about his shoulders. He looked almost familiar.

"Boromir?" he squinted his eyes a moment then his mouth turned up in a grin. "It _is_ you!" It only took Boromir a moment to recognize the face then.

"Godwine! My old friend, it's been ages!" He stepped up and embraced the man who had become like family to him after Boromir's many visits to Rohan, his problems forgotten for a moment. As he stepped back though, he saw the weariness of the man and the worry lines etched on his face and remembered his mission again. "Godwine, where is everyone? Why is the city abandoned?"

"Theoden has taken the people to Helm's Deep. He hopes to find refuge behind its walls." He sighed. "Dinner will be ready soon. Why don't we go get you washed up? I will have some of the men bring you water. There is much to discuss."

"Yes. Very well, thank you." Boromir turned and spotted Daphnaie standing quietly, still at the entrance to the Hall. He'd forgotten her! Perhaps she had not noticed…He strode confidently over to her. A less-than-pleased expression marred her features.

"Remembered me have you?" He just grunted in acknowledgement and led her over to the soldiers. Most had gone back to conversing quietly around the table but Godwine stood waiting.

"Ah! And who is this fair maiden?" Godwine smiled suggestively at Boromir. Boromir answered with a look of annoyance.

"Her name is Daphnaie. She has been…assisting me. I'll explain more later. For now, I would ask you to fetch water for her as well, and if there are any spare clothes you could give us we would be much obliged.

"Of course, if you will follow me. Leofric!" One of the soldiers at the table looked up at the call. "Leofric, lead Lady Daphnaie to Eowyn's room and then fetch her some warm water from the kitchens.

"Yes, sir," came his quick reply. He appeared younger than most of the others, Boromir thought, at least ten years his junior. Golden locks were tied back from his pale face. Still, he looked tall and able. He was probably a fine soldier. He wore no gloves so Boromir could see the scars and scrapes that covered his hands. It would appear he's already seen battle. "This way." He nodded at Daphnaie to follow. She looked at Boromir, eyes wide. He nodded his head in encouragement, eyes locked with hers, trying to communicate 'you'll be fine' with a glance. Boromir kept his eyes on her as she turned slowly and followed Leofric down a nearby hallway. He felt a hand grip his shoulder. Beside him, Godwine said,

"Come along Boromir. Let's go get you some of Theodred's clothes." Boromir smiled at the mention of his friend.

"You are sure Theodred will not mind if I take some of his things?"

"Certainly not my Lord." The seriousness of Godwine's tone caught Boromir off guard. He stopped walking and stared over at Godwine. Godwine came to a stop a few more paces down the hall and sighed. He turned and faced Boromir, his eyes somber. "Theodred is….dead." Boromir's heart sunk. He and Theodred had never been especially close, but that is not to say they weren't friends. Boromir had known Theodred for years. He knew him well enough to see that he was an honorable and courageous man, and that he would make a great leader of Rohan one day—or rather he would have. It hurt him to his core to know that Rohan had been robbed of such a man.

"Dead? How? When?"

"He died of battle wounds, a death not worthy of him. He was laid to rest only yesterday." Godwine's sadness was evident in his voice. Boromir knew that Godwine had helped raise Theodred, often looking after him when Theoden's duties called him away. Theodred was like family to Godwine. Boromir did not know what to say. Comforting was not one of his strong suits.

"I—I'm sorry Godwine. I know you were—"

"It does not do to dwell," Godwine interrupted, much to Boromir's relief. He started down the hall again. "Besides, it gladdens my heart greatly to see you alive and well."

"What do you mean?" Boromir called after him, confused.

"The same day I watched Theodred buried, I heard report of your own death. I see now those reports were mistaken." Boromir's pulse quickened. He raced to catch up with Godwine.

"Who told you of my death? Speak quickly." Godwine looked shocked at Boromir's anxiousness, but answered him.

"Some travelers. They rode up on horseback yesterday morning. That's not the strange part though. The strange thing is they were _our_ horses. It seems the King's nephew Eomer gave them the horses, a very strange act indeed." Boromir grew excited at this. It had to be them!

"Who were the travelers? Were they a man, an elf and a dwarf?"

"Yes, yes, and a wizard too. We owe them a debt of gratitude really, but Boromir please," he laughed then. "I will tell you all about them at dinner in great detail. I promise. Hurry and get changed." They had arrived at Theodred's room. "The water should be in there by now. Go on get in there." Boromir frowned but did as he was asked. The first sign he'd found of his friends and Godwine wanted him to wait till dinner to hear about them! He sighed. He supposed that another fifteen minutes was not going to make much of a difference. He was a Captain of Gondor for pity's sake! He could exercise a little patience. He shut the door and headed for the washroom to get cleaned up.

**A/N: There you go chapter 5! Stay tuned, it's off to Helms deep next chapter. As always reviews are very very very much appreciated. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: ifbookswerefood-i'dbefat: Thanks so much! Yes I love the original story so I wanted to keep it the same as much as possible, just adding Boromir back into the mix. Sorry about the name change. She'll go by Daphnaie exclusively now so hopefully the confusion will ware off. And about Boromir not trusting her, it's because he thinks her whole story is a cover. He doesn't **_**believe**_** that she gave up immortality and what-not for him.. at least not yet;)**

**Once again thanks to those of you who reviewed last chapter, it's very motivating. Those of you who are following this story but have yet to write a review, don't be shy;) Anyways let's get back to our lovely couple..**

**Chapter 6: **

Leofric led Daphnaie in silence down a long dimly lit passage in the opposite direction of where Godwine took Boromir. She felt nervous being separated from him, but was soon distracted by the intricate tapestries lining the walls. She kept stopping to take a closer look at ones that caught her eye. They were just so detailed! She found them fascinating. Perhaps when she had finished helping Boromir she could come back here and learn the art.

One picture in particular stood at to her as she viewed them all one by one. It was a man defending some stronghold, standing atop a mound of bodies and surrounded by enemies, but no fear marred his features. A light seemed to shine on him and he stood proudly holding up a banner emblazoned with a galloping horse. With blood stained armor and golden hair flying free in the wind, he looked every bit the warrior. The image brought Boromir to mind. Blast! Did she think of nothing but that man?

"Who is that?" She stopped and pointed to the soldier in the picture. Leofric stopped and turned. Seeing what she was pointing to, he smiled. It was a warm, friendly smile, and the effect was very comforting.

"That," he said walking back over to her, "is Helm Hammerhead, ninth King of Rohan."

"He must have been a great man," She said, making no attempt to hide her awe.

"Yes, my lady he was indeed. He defended our stronghold Helms Deep even unto his death." She stayed silent for a moment. He looked at her expectantly as if waiting for more questions but began walking down the passage again when she offered none. When she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the image, she found he had gone on without her and walked quickly to catch up with him. He did not look at her when she reached his side, but the corners of his mouth turned up.

"You look like him," she finally said. His head swung over to look at her in shock, and he quickly started laughing as if this small observation had provided him much mirth.

"That's not one I've heard before," he managed to get out between chuckles.

"What do you mean?" She asked bemused, his infectious laughter bringing a small smile to her lips.

"Well, my appearance is the source of some amusement for the rest of the men." She looked him up and down. He seemed handsome enough to her. His face colored at her inspections. "I mean—it is because of my fair skin," he said in a rush. "You see, we ride quite often and most of the men will turn as brown as these wooden walls after so long a time in the sun, but I stay just as pale as parchment."

He reached up to scratch the back of his head and laughed nervously. "So to go from being taunted endlessly by the men, to being likened to one of the greatest men in Rohan's history by a traveler, particularly a traveler as lovely as yourself…well, it is just quite the change. That's all." She was barely listening to him anymore. Had he really called her lovely?

'_He was probably just being kind,_' a small voice in her head said. She had to agree with the voice. She was filthy and her clothes did not fit quite right. Surely he did not find her dull skin and muddy eyes lovely. But when she looked up and saw he was stilling smiling down at her, another small voice said '_perhaps he really does.' _For some reason, this thought terrified her. She looked back down quickly and stared at her feet. From the corner of her eye, she saw him stop in front of one of the many large doors lining the passage.

"Ah. Here we are, Lady Eowyn's room. Feel free to wear any one of her dresses to dinner, and another pair of riding pants and a tunic will be brought to you just as soon as some appropriate ones can be found. I'm afraid we do not get many women around these parts who like to wear trousers," he said with a wink. "I will return shortly with some warm water." Leofric left abruptly without waiting for her reply.

She took a moment to look about the room. It was spacious and quite nice if not overly luxurious, not quite what she expected for the virtual daughter of the king. Only the fine gowns and fur-lined cloaks in the wardrobe spoke of wealth. She examined the dresses for an appropriate one to wear to dinner. Her heart longed for her to dress in the loveliest, most extravagant one. She was quite used to extravagance. Vána, who grew the most beautiful gardens in Valinor and was the Valar friendliest to her, was nothing if not profligate in her dressing of the forest. Vána would visit Daphnaie on occasion and the loveliest trail of flowers would always spring up from her footsteps. Daphnaie always felt Vána created too much beauty in the forest for any mortal to truly appreciate. How she missed it… rousing herself from these depressing thoughts of her old life, Daphnaie resumed her browsing of the dresses.

As the gowns did not belong to her, she felt it would be…inappropriate for her to select one of the more lavish ones, opting instead for a simple white one with a scoop neck and long tight sleeves. The body of the dress hung off her, rather like a sack till she tied a belt about the waste. She observed the completed outfit in the tall mirror leaning against the wall beside the wardrobe and deemed it acceptable. She removed the dress and laid it out atop the bed until she had washed off. A knock sounded at the door just as she finished sliding into a delicate blood red robe.

"I have the water for you my lady," she heard Leofric call from the hallway.

"Enter," she responded. Leofric walked into the room carrying a large bucket of steaming water. He nearly dropped it when he saw what she was wearing. He managed to hold onto it but some water splashed over the side coating his hand. He hissed in pain and quickly set the bucket down just inside the door. She rushed over to him and made to grab his injured hand.

"Are you alright?" she asked worried. She leaned right up against him in an effort to see the damage. He jerked his hand away, looking more and more uncomfortable.

"I'm fine. It was just a little hot, that's all. Here, let me put this in the bathroom." He picked up the bucket off the floor and carried it to the bathroom, keeping his eyes carefully averted from her. She did not move from her place by the door. What was wrong with him? The sounds of water being poured into a tub carried out from the bathroom and soon after Leofric emerged still looking quite flustered. "Everything is ready for you, so I will take my leave. My lady." He bowed slightly and hastily made his way to the door. She thought there must be something very interesting about the floor from the way he stared at it.

"Leofric, wait!" He stopped with one foot out the door.

"Yes?" He replied without turning.

"Will you escort me to dinner when it is ready?" His lips were set in a grim line when he turned to face her.

"My lady, I do not know what the men are like where you come from, but here in Rohan soldiers have more honor than this." What? Was it taboo for a man to escort a woman to dinner? Or perhaps just improper for a soldier to escort a woman of her standing—which is to say a woman of no standing. She attempted to mollify him.

"Please I…I did not mean to offend."

"Offend? Oh, I am not offended." He gave her a hard look. "But you would do well to remember that men here are not so easily seduced." Seduced! What on earth? Were all men completely dimwitted or was in just her lot in life to be thrown in with all of the senseless ones?

" What? But I wasn't—what in the name of Eru are you talking about?" That she did not simply confirm his accusations as correct seemed to surprise him. He walked back into the room, closing the door behind him.

"That robe!" He gestured at the thin red fabric she had wrapped about her. "It was clearly designed for the sole purpose of enticing me! And when you leaned up against me before when the water—" He held up his burnt hand as if it were all the proof in the world but quickly steered away from that thought. "And—and then you asked me to escort you! You mean to tell me you were not trying to lure me to your bed?" She almost laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. Almost. In a fury she yelled,

"Of course not! What kind of woman do you take me for?" She took a few deep breaths and tried to explain herself calmly. "I put this robe on because it was clean and the clothes I came in are filthy. And I asked you to escort me to dinner because I am afraid I do not know where dinner will be held." They just stared at each other for a long moment. He appeared to deflate before her eyes. Even the tips of his ears turned red with embarrassment. He seemed at a loss for words.

"Forgive me my lady. I—" As usual, her anger died almost as soon as it had come.

"It is alright. No harm done. Return in a few minutes and take me to dinner and we can call it even. Fair?" She said with a sigh, hoping that if she ignored the awkwardness and embarrassment she felt, it would fade away. A relieved smile lit up his face.

"More than fair my lady." He turned to leave once more.

"Oh! and Lefric?"

"Yes?" he answered, rather timidly. She hesitated.

"Perhaps we should keep this…misunderstanding between us. Yes?" Amusement twinkled in his eyes.

"Alas, for I wanted to share the tale with the whole troop. Very well then, if that is your wish." She smiled at him and closed the door as he walked away.

With a relaxed sigh she slid into the bath tub. Twenty minutes in the Golden hall and she'd already caused quite the scandal. All of that because of a silly red robe? Men were so completely ridiculous sometimes. If she had wanted to seduce him, she would have—well she did not know what she would have done but she certainly would have come up with something a tad cleverer than a robe for goodness' sake. And anyway she had no interest in seducing him! She barely knew the man.

As much as she wanted to rest comfortably in the warm water for a while, she new Leofric would be returning soon and Valar forbid she not be completely dressed when he arrived. She quickly scrubbed off all of the dirt that had accumulated on her skin and in her hair over the last several days, and then stood to dry herself off. She groaned when she saw herself in the mirror. She had browned in the sun, quite a bit. Boromir had described for her the tan skin of the Easterlings, and she imagined she could walk amongst them and disappear. She also had…freckles. She might as well be diseased! There they were, easily visible, crisscrossing along her nose and cheeks. The nerve of her skin.

She threw her dress over her head in a huff and braided her dark hair in one long braid down her back.

"Are you dressed Lady Daphnaie?" She heard a voice call from the hallway. She opened the door in response. Leofric just stared for a moment, then he remembered himself and smiled that curious smile of his.

"Dinner is this way." His arm rose slightly as if he was going to offer it to her, but he seemed to think better of it and just turned for her to follow. They walked down the passageway, back out into the Hall and through another door into a spacious room with a long table in the center. Boromir was already seated next to Godwine with six other men all eating some sort of stew. She took a seat next to Boromir and Leofric sat across from her. Boromir leaned over to her as she sat down.

"Took you long enough," he said with a wink. She rolled her eyes at him. She took a moment to observe him as he joined back into the conversation with the other men. This was the first time she had seen him not covered in blood and filth, and she had to admit…he cleaned up nicely. He was laughing with the men too. It was a nice change. Generally Boromir was so worried and consumed by his desire to find his friends that only a small frown of concentration graced his handsome features. She decided he looked younger when he smiled. Her attention was drawn away from Boromir, though, as Godwine addressed her.

"My lady, now that you have joined us I think I shall begin my tale."

"Finally," Boromir muttered. Godwine just ignored him.

"Now you may not be aware of this, but our lord King Théoden's health had deteriorated greatly over the past several months. Our strong, proud king was reduced to a decrepit old man with hardly the strength to walk, and his mind was no longer his either but polluted with the poisonous council of his advisor, Wormtongue." He spat the name. "We only learned yesterday that it was in fact Saruman's spell that had taken hold of our king. Yesterday morning four riders entered our Hall—a man, a dwarf, an elf, and a wizard. It was this wizard, Gandalf the white—"

"Surely you mean Gandalf the grey!" Boromir exclaimed, joy evident in his voice. Gandalf the grey. Daphnaie recognized the name. Gandalf the grey. She could almost picture him. Gandalf the grey. But of course! She knew him! More than once he had traveled through her forest, and on one fateful day he had recognized her, even as a tree. Somehow he could see her. It had scared her at first, but filled with curiosity she had revealed herself to him. He was the only being she had ever revealed herself to. To see him…speak to him again…

"Where has he gone?" She cried. Boromir gave her a strange look then, but she was not quite sure what it meant. It hinted faintly at…suspicion? Surely not.

"Let me finish!" Godwine said annoyed. "As I was saying, Gandalf the _White," _he gave Boromir a pointed lookthere, "freed Théoden from Saruman's iron grip. As soon as his mind was his once more, Théoden banished Wormtongue, then buried the prince, and just this morning left for Helms deep, with all except for us, who have been charged with protecting the Hall" he gestured to the other men at the table, "and Gandalf who rode off alone in search of the king's nephew for aid."

Boromir asked Godwine some more questions then but Daphnaie could hardly keep up. The questions all related to things Boromir had never mentioned before and they confused Daphnaie to no end. Even the questions about Gandalf were shrouded in mystery to her. What did he mean he thought Gandalf had been lost in the mines or Moria? What even were the mines of Moria and how could a wizard possibly get lost there? What was this fellowship he kept referring to? It angered her that he had never spoken of any of this to her before, and she felt the beginnings of a headache forming.

"Excuse me," she said standing up. "I think I need some air." Boromir nodded, hardly listening, and turned back to Godwine.

She left the table and made her way out onto the stone steps in front of the Golden Hall, taking a seat on the top one. The cool night air did wonders for her frayed nerves. She just sat there looking out onto the moon-lit plains for a while. Breathing in the freshness she calmed down quickly enough. Oddly she found herself wishing for someone to come and talk with her— as an immortal she never longed for company, though she had always enjoyed Vána's visits. Right now though, she thought some conversation might improve her mood, perhaps conversation with a young soldier of Rohan with skin as pale as parchment….

"You left rather abruptly." A masculine voice interrupted her thoughts

**A/N: I know I said they would make it to Helms deep this chapter:/ but it seems I underestimated how much they'd be doing at Edoras. Forgive me. They'll make it to Helms deep next chapter I swear and then it won't be long before everyone is reunited yayyy. Anyways tell me what you thought of this latest installment!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I know I'm the worst! It's been forever! I've been soooooo swamped with work and college apps and just exhausted, but I haven't forgotten about this! I finally wrote this chapter so please enjoy and review so I know if you did or not. **

**Chapter 7**

"You left rather abruptly." Boromir took a seat beside her noting that she didn't take her eyes off the horizon.

"Yes well, I needed some air. I apologize if I was rude." Her tone indicated she was not the least bit sorry. She was clearly on edge. He would have to tread carefully. He certainly did not want to unleash that fiery temper of hers. He decided to follow her lead and simply stare out at the horizon.

"I am sure Godwine was not offended. The rules of etiquette are not foremost in his mind at the moment." She did not reply. He allowed the silence to stretch out for a moment before breaking it. "We will depart for Helm's Deep in the morning." She acknowledged him with the smallest nod. "Daphnaie, are you alright?" He shifted on the steps to face her. They were so close their knees touched. She tilted her head and peered over at him. Her eyes shown, reflecting the stars. Her words came out tired.

"Yes, I just—Bormir do you have any siblings." This question surprised him. He wondered where she might be going with this. Surely Saruman knew well of his brother. Perhaps she was just curious…

"Yes, I have a younger brother—Faramir."

"And do you love him?"

"Of course, he is family," he answered automatically.

"If he wasn't family, would you still love him?" He considered that carefully for a moment.

"Yes I'm sure I would." He paused, and when she did not interject continued. "Faramir is everything I'm not. He's patient and strategic, compassionate, sympathetic." He smiled thinking of the time before they were men with responsibilities and had plenty of time to make mischief all day. " Faramir would tell you that I am always looking after him, but Faramir looks out for me too. He always kept me from getting into too much trouble." He would have kept babbling on but he noticed now that she was staring at him and the look in her eyes troubled him. "What is it Daphnaie? Why do ask about my family." She seemed reluctant to answer.

"I just…I was curious about what it's like to have someone to love. I don't have family—I mean, I imagine I did before my time in the forest but I cannot remember so it's as if I never had one at all, and there weren't too many strapping young men to steal my fancy in those woods." He saw nothing but sincerity in her eyes. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't imagine a loveless life. He considered maybe that was what led her to Saruman. Perhaps she did not comprehend his evil because she had never known the opposite.

"Very few lads came through the woods at all," She interrupted his thought. " In fact the only one I ever spoke to was Gan..." Suddenly her expression changed, as if she was remembering something. "Boromir, why did you never mention Gandalf had traveled with you? And at dinner you also mentioned some Fellowship. Fellowship of what? Why have you been keeping this from me?" Something like a wall slammed down over Boromir, a mask to hide his emotions. So this was it then? She planned to guilt him into sharing with her all the details of his quest? Well, he would not give up his friends so easily.

"I am the keeper of many men's secrets. Am I to relinquish them all to you?" He said scooting back from her.

"Only the ones that are relevant. Gandalf is traveling with the very men we were tracking. It would have been very nice indeed to know of his connection to you!"

"You didn't need to know!"

" I know now! Who would it have hurt if you had told me a week ago? I'm trying to help you!"

"Are you?" She stood, clearly offended.

"What does that mean?" She said, looking down at him.

"Do you think me a fool?" He said, rising also.

"Right now Boromir? Yes I certainly do." And with that, she stormed away, striding back into the Hall.

Well…he hadn't expected that. He thought she'd defend herself. That she would try harder to convince him that she was his ally, or at the very least shout at him a little more. Why would she walk away? He could only assume it was to throw him off his guard, but it wouldn't work. He would be more careful than ever now. He walked back into the Hall. Hesitating just inside the grand doors, he scanned the room for her, but she was nowhere in sight. She must have retired, as should he. Regardless of their argument, he would still have to travel to Helm's Deep tomorrow, and with a companion as treacherous as his, he would need to be as alert as possible.

Daphnaie woke the next morning completely unrested. Groggily, she stumbled out of bed and got dressed in some trousers and a tunic. How could she travel to Helms Deep with Boromir? He was infuriating and it was becoming clearer to her that whatever trust he had in her was limited, which was also maddening. Was saving his live not enough? Clearly not. She wondered if Leofric could be persuaded to accompany them. His company would be a welcome distraction from Boromir's surly mood. She would have to ask him at breakfast.

She left her room and walked towards the Hall. Most of the men were already seated and eating. She saw Boromir and Godwine talking over a map, taking small bites of sausage every now and then. They seemed to be going over the route again.

"Good morning Godwine, Boromir." She said with a nod to each, sitting down next to Godwine who greeted her with a smile.

"Morning." Boromir replied, not warmly, keeping his eyes decidedly on the map. Instead of getting angry as she expected, Daphnaie found his terse greeting amusing. Boromir was such a little boy sometimes. She began to scan the room for Leofric. Surely he was around somewhere.

A loud crash from the doors to the Hall swinging open snatched the attention of all present. A lone man, haggard and bloody, staggered inside. He seemed to struggle, summoning the strength to shout the words: "The devils of Saruman descend on Helms Deep." Before he had the chance to go on, he collapsed in a heap onto the hard floor.

For a moment everyone hesitated. No one was quite sure how to react. Then Daphnaie watched as Boromir rushed forward and knelt to help the man. Spurred to action, Godwine started shouting orders to his men, but Daphnaie did not pay attention to his words. She stood to focus better on what Boromir was doing. He seemed to be checking over the man's wounds. Suddenly Boromir's head jerked up, and his eyes began scanning the room for something. Eventually his gaze landed on Daphnaie.

"Daphnaie, Come!" He shouted at her. She stood stock still. In her shocked state her brain struggled to attach meaning to Boromir's words. He looked at her exasperated. "Are you deaf girl? Come and assist me!" Finally she remembered herself and rushed over in a flurry to kneel beside Boromir. "Can you help him?" He asked, all of the hurt and anger from the previous night gone from his eyes for now.

"Me?" She replied disbelieving.

"Yes you." He answered. "I am no healer, and none of these men will be able to do much for wounds this severe." He waved his hand in the direction of the soldiers scuttling about the Hall.

Her first instinct was to panic. What could she do for this poor man? He might be dead even as they spoke about him, he looked so pale. Then she transitioned into fury. How could Boromir place all of the responsibility on her as he was? A man's life was not something to be tossed around. How could he place this much pressure on her? She was just a girl for goodness' sake! And then it struck her. That was just it wasn't it? She wasn't just a girl, though she'd been acting like one. She was human now, but she still had centuries of memories and experience. A vital piece of herself seemed to slide back into alignment, consequently loosing a surge of confidence. She _would_ save this man. She would save him because it was right, but also to prove to herself that she wasn't the weak, useless maiden she'd foolishly convinced herself she'd become. Boromir had remained silent for the duration of Daphnaie's inner argument, but he was clearly losing patience.

"Move over." She said abruptly. Boromir looked surprised but he shuffled over without comment. She set herself more comfortably beside the injured man, closely evaluating the damage. It looked…well she almost couldn't tell how it looked there was so much blood. He had an arrow—the shaft was broken—lodged beneath his ribcage on his left side and a deep gash about mid-thigh on his left leg. The torn fabric around his wounds was soaked with blood. She put her hand on his neck to feel for a pulse. It was weak but steady. She hoped he hadn't already suffered too much blood loss. There was nothing she could do for that. At least not anymore.

"Well?" Boromir asked worriedly.

"We can't move him yet. Get me some boiled water, some clean bandages and some sutures." Boromir nodded, and left quickly. She realized she needed some help. "And if you see Leofric, send him to me!" She called after him. After that her attention was solely and completely on the man in front of her.

First she ripped the remains of his shirt off, and tied the torn fabric tightly around his leg above the gash. Hopefully that would halt some of the bleeding. She scanned the arrow wound. Pierced lung? Unlikely. Other serious internal damage would be limited. The arrow did not appear to have pierced very deeply. It must have been fired from a good distance. It should be safe to remove.

"What can I do?" She jumped, and looked up. Leofric kneeled beside her. Good. Boromir had found him.

"Give me your shirt."

"What?"

"Your shirt! I need something to help staunch the bleeding." He looked at her questioningly.

"Would that not be more effective if the arrow was removed?"

"Quite right." With that she placed one hand firmly on the man's side, and with the other hand she grasped what was left of the arrow shaft and yanked. She freed the arrow in one fluid motion. She threw the gory weapon on the ground and held out her hand for Leofric's shirt. He stared at her for a moment. She couldn't discern the strange look in his eye. The next moment his shirt was in her hand, and she pressed it into the wound. Soon after Boromir arrived. She stitched up both wounds with clean precision, her hands always steady.

The work was long and gruesome, and it was horrible to see a man in such condition, but she could not help but feel a strange serenity. She was just so efficient. She looked at the damage and saw everything that was wrong and knew exactly what to do about it. It was invigorating. A few hours later, the man was lying in bed, clean and in a healing sleep. She was sitting beside his bed, ready to act if he caught fever or if one of his wounds began bleeding again. He was weak and his leg might never be as it was, but he was alive. She smiled to herself. He was alive, and she was responsible.

She was busy checking the bandages again when she heard a knock on the door. She turned and smiled as Leofric entered. He stood relaxed with his arms crossed leaning against the wall.

"How is he?" He asked, nodding at the man. She flashed him a smile.

"Quite well I think." He grinned at her.

"How are you?"

"Quite well, thank you."

"I just wanted to tell you, it was amazing to watch you work. I didn't realize you were a healer." She wasn't sure what to tell him. Certainly not the truth, but certainly not a lie either.

"Yes, I've been studying healing for a long time. But please, let's not talk of work right now. I'm exhausted."

"Very well," he said not in the least put off. "What would you like to talk about? I would very much like to know more about you. Tell me something." She laughed at him as she sat herself down in a chair by the bed.

"Now wait just one moment! You asked me what I wanted to talk about and then immediately chose the topic yourself. I demand to talk about something other than myself."

"Fine, fine. You make a fair point." He had a mischievous glint in his eye. "Just tell me one thing then, one tiny thing about yourself, and then we'll talk about whatever you want." She was examining Leofric's smile. She wondered how it was possible that he could always be so happy.

"As you wish. I have a particular love of morning glories."

Boromir stood in the hallway outside the room. He would have gone in but Leofric was in there sitting with Daphnaie. She had saved that man, that wounded soldier. That could have been him. It _had_ been him, he realized, and she had saved him too. She seemed to be in the business of saving people. He just didn't understand! She had been incredible. He hadn't seen more impressive work from any healer. How could one trained to save lives be a traitor? Boromir was a logical man, but his theories simply weren't adding up. He wanted to talk to her. Maybe she would reveal something, some hidden thing that might afford him some clarity. He did not, however, wish to speak in front of Leofric. The man, or boy rather, was virtually glued to her side. Would he not give her a moment's peace? He sighed. Was he not a captain of Gondor? Was he not a grown man? He could have a little patience then. He would talk to her on the way to Helms Deep the next day, as she had demanded to postpone their departure until she could be sure her patient would remain stable. He found he could not refuse her after the work she had done.

That evening he headed off to bed immediately after dinner. He wanted to get an early start the next morning. On his way out of the Hall he saw Leofric and Daphnaie walk out the front doors presumably to go for a walk about the building. That shouldn't bother him. It was perfectly natural to want some fresh air after being indoors all day. But it did bother him.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: OK we are FINALLY going to arrive at Helms Deep. Things are getting interesting. You're welcome. Enjoy! **

_(March 4th. 8 days since Boromir's "death")_

Boromir packed his saddlebags as the sun rose in a much cheerier mood than the night previously. The stables had a comforting air about them, as he had a great love for riding. He'd had a fine horse growing up in Gondor. The Rohirrim do not sell their horses so Boromir had never owned one of their famed breeds but all the same, his stallion, Greymane, had been magnificent. He had lost Greymane on his way to Rivendell so many months ago. It felt like a lifetime ago, like he was remembering a dream. Everything had changed after Rivendell. He had no longer been the magnificent High Warden of Gondor admired by all. His role in the fellowship had been much simpler. He'd been a friend, a protector and in the end…a traitor. His heart clenched and he nearly dropped the saddlebag in his hands. He had never felt such shame. How could he face his friends again? How would they treat him? They would surely cast him out, never trust him again, and he would deserve that.

No.

He would redeem himself. He would prove he was not weak. If they gave him a second chance, he would never let them down again. He pushed those thoughts away for now. Worrying about the future would achieve nothing, or so Faramir would have told him. The important thing now was to focus on getting to Helm's Deep.

He finished readying the horses that Godwine was lending him and Daphnaie. They were fine steeds. He had let Daphnaie check up on her patient one last time while he went ahead to the stables. The man's health was much improved. He had even regained consciousness for a brief time. His name turned out to be Cenric. He was one of King Theoden's scouts. Thanks to Daphnaie, he was expected to make a full recovery.

Boromir was more conflicted than ever. He could not see how she could be the enemy he knew she certainly must be. It was well he had the trip to Helms Deep to find out more about her, perhaps finally put the pieces together. He glanced up as he strapped the last pack onto his horse's saddle. Daphnaie ought to arrive any moment, likely followed by her pet Leofric, he thought with some annoyance then checked himself. He was being uncharitable. What had Leofric done? Nothing, and he was behaving in an ungracious way unbefitting a captain of Gondor. He resolved to think better of Leofric in the future.

Just then Daphnaie hurried through the stable doors with, sure enough, Leofric following close behind. Boromir greeted them both extra courteously.

"And good day to you Boromir." Daphnaie said grinning broadly. "I have news. Leofric will be joining our party. He offered to help guide us, and Godwine thought it an excellent idea. Isn't that wonderful?"

Bothersome, impertinent boy. "_A guide my arse," _Boromir thought. Helm's Deep was only about 60miles from Edoras, one day's ride. Boromir knew he could handle the short trip to Helms Deep with about as much ease as a trip to the bathroom. He opened his mouth to say as much but was momentarily distracted by Daphnaie's appearance. She was striking. She wore some form-fitting, black riding pants and a sea green tunic just a bit too big for her tucked in. Her long black tresses were tied in a braid down her back, but some pieces around her tanned face were already free. Mostly though, it was her smile that did it. She practically glowed with happiness. It was almost mesmerizing. Any other time he would have put Leofric in his place, but at that moment he just couldn't make himself be the cause of removing that smile from her delicate features. Instead Boromir mustered all the gratitude he could and said,

"Indeed? My thanks to you then, Leofric. In these dark times, two soldiers together are certainly better than one alone for any journey no matter the distance." Leofric inclined his head at Boromir.

"Oh damn." Leofric said with a self-deprecating smile. I'm supposed to bring a message to King Theoden from Godwine. I've left it in the Hall. Forgive me. I'll be right back." He hurried out before either Boromir or Daphnaie could say anything. An awkward silence followed his departure. Boromir glanced back over at Daphnaie who was putting the last of the saddlebags on the mare she would ride.

"I suppose we'll need to ready another horse then?" Boromir said completely disguising his annoyance. It was lucky that Boromir had considerable self-restraint. He was confused when Daphnaie suddenly looked embarrassed. It was easy to tell as she blushed fiercely. She was a bit of an open book.

"That won't be necessary." She said looking anywhere but Boromir.

"Oh?" Boromir couldn't resist such an opportunity to tease her. "Will Leofric be walking then? Or yourself? Do you mean you can run as fast as the horses? I am both shocked and impressed." He offered her his most convincing "awe-struck" look. She lost her fascination with the floor, and gave Boromir a cold irritated stare. It was almost enough to make Boromir regret his words…but not quite. She was just so easily wound up!

"No, of course not. We don't need another horse because I will be riding with Leofric." Boromir was no longer amused.

"What?" Daphnaie repeated herself loudly and slowly, carefully enunciating each word.

"I. Will. Be. Riding. With. Leofric." It was Boromir's turn to look annoyed.

"Whatever for?" She mumbled something, but Boromir didn't quite catch it. "What was that?"

"I can't ride!" She looked him in the eye now, but she blushed tellingly. "I don't know how, and I thought since we are in a hurry now would not be the most opportune time to learn." So she had asked Leofric to ride with her. That made sense, Boromir supposed. Except—

_Why didn't she ask me?_

Where had that come from? It didn't matter to him in the least whom she chose to ride with. He stared at her for a moment. She was watching him expectantly, waiting for him to comment. A little pinkness still lingered on her cheeks.

"Oh. Well. Very well then. Do you need any help mounting?" He wasn't sure what else to say. He didn't want to upset her any further.

"Um…" She looked at her horse uncertainly for a moment, then gave Boromir a small smile. "Yes thank you." He walked over to her, stopping beside the front of the horse.

"Okay, stand very close to the horse." He told her in a soft but commanding tone. She complied somewhat nervously. "Grab the horn of the saddle with your left hand and the other end of the saddle with your right. Make sure you have a firm grip." He watched on amused as she slowly grabbed the saddle, keeping a wary eye on the horse the whole time. "Now put your left foot in the stirrup and swing your other leg over the horse." She hesitated.

"Are you sure about this?" Boromir smiled encouragingly.

"Yes of course. Trust me." She took a deep breath and placed her foot in the stirrup. Boromir was about to tell her to secure her footing a little more, but she launched off the ground before he could. Her foot slid out of the stirrup as soon as she did so. She gave a surprised yelp as she began to fall backwards, but Boromir was beside her in an instant a caught her before she could hit her head on the stable wall.

Warm brown eyes looked up at him, wide with shock, as he held Daphnaie in his arms. They were so deep, like you could sink into them and never return. They revealed all of her thoughts, all of her emotions—beautiful, honest eyes.

"Thank you." She said breathlessly. A small, relieved smile lit up her face.

"_Get a hold of yourself!" _Boromir thought and released her. It was good timing too because Leofric came jogging back into the stables just moments afterword. He didn't want Leofric to get the wrong idea. _"Or the right one," _a little voice in Boromir's head added. Boromir stoutly ignored the voice. Its appearances were becoming more frequent, and bothersome, everyday.

"Are we ready to go?" Leofric asked, oblivious to the tense atmosphere in the stables.

"Yes, we were just waiting on you. Let's be off," Boromir answered as he mounted. Leofric hopped on the back of the horse with the ease one would expect of a horse lord and then skillfully helped Daphnaie mount up behind him. She looked nervous on the back of the tall beast but just wrapped her arms around Leofric's waist without complaint. Boromir and Leofric steered the horses out of the stables and began the downward trek out of Edoras. Boromir inclined his head at Godwine, who stood on the steps of the Golden Hall to see them off.

They rode the horses at a slow walk down the hillside. There would be plenty of time for hard riding once they reached the plains. The empty buildings were just as eerie as when he and Daphnaie had first arrived. When they had nearly reached the gates of the city, Leofric led his horse off the path towards one of the nearby houses. Boromir opened his mouth to command him to fall back in line, but thought better of it. Leofric was not one of his men to be ordered about. It was not Boromir's place to give him commands. He kept silent and watched as Leofric led the horse to the side of the small dilapidated building and grabbed a handful of morning glories that were growing up the wall. He handed them backwards to Daphnaie who blushed and smiled broadly. Boromir thought she seemed inordinately pleased about the small offering. Then Leofric said something to her and she laughed and punched him lightly on the arm. Enough was enough.

"Leofric! If you're quite finished, perhaps we could go to Helm's deep now?" Boromir called over to them. Embarrassed, Leofric looked quickly over at Boromir, his boyish grin gone.

"Yes of course, Lord Boromir." He hastily brought his horse back beside Boromir. Daphnaie was not cowed in the least. She looked right at Boromir and gave him an irritated glance. Her anger only amused him. She was hardly an intimidating person, being so small and averse to violence, so her attempts to threaten Boromir with a hard look came off a little ridiculous. He chuckled to himself and winked at her, which only seemed to annoy her further, and she turned away from him.

"_Boromir: 1, Daphanie:0." _He thought to himself with a small smile.

…

"_He probably thinks he just won that little battle," _Daphnaie thought to herself. Well she would make sure that was the last of his victories. How maddening he was, though, really she was more amused than mad. Still, she'd get some respect sooner or later.

Once they exited the city, they picked up the pace, which was a little uncomfortable for her. They rode mostly in silence, with only a few comments here and there, as their anxiety grew with every step closer to Helm's Deep. Hours later, they began to ascend a small hill. The smell hit them first, then they saw it. At the top, bodies lay rotting in the sun—men, orcs, horses, and wargs. It was a gruesome sight. A wave of nausea swept over her, and felt light headed. She needed to get off the horse.

"I need to get down." She choked out. She and Leofric were stopped a few paces behind Boromir. Leofric didn't seem to register she'd spoken. He was too lost in his grief.

"I need to get down." She repeated between shallow gasps for air.

"Daphnaie look at me." Boromir commanded from in front of her. Her head jerked over to Boromir. He looked calm, completely unaffected by the horrifying scene.

"Just hold on to Leofric, swing your right leg over, and drop down."

"Okay" she said quietly, only too happy to listen. The second her feet touched the ground she bolted to a spot several yards away and retched. She felt terrible, weak, and her throat burned. She never got sick before. Her new fragility was becoming only too clear. When the worst of the nausea passed she stood up only to find Boromir waiting patiently behind her holding a wineskin, bless him. She needed a drink bad. She grabbed it eagerly and took a long drink of the cool water within. When she was finished, she handed the wineskin back and squatted down resting her head in her hands. Without the distraction of her queasy stomach she was struck with the full force of the scene. So many men dead. It was almost more than she could bear. Before this, the only dead man she had ever seen was Boromir and she had reversed that, but this? This was permanent. These men were gone and there was nothing she could do about it. She sensed Boromir kneel down beside her. He rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He asked kindly. She lifted her head but didn't look at him. She couldn't face him yet. She was shamed of her weakness. No one else got sick. No one else felt this paralyzing sadness for men they had never even seen before. Boromir was so much stronger than she was. She took a deep breath before answering.

"Yes. I'm sorry. It's just the—"

"The smell. I know. You'll feel better once we move on." His voice held only understanding, no judgment. He stood up beside her.

"No I won't," She answered. She wouldn't feel better about this for a long time, if she ever felt better about it at all.

"What?" Boromir asked, his confusion evident. How could she make him understand the flurry of emotion inside of her? She was almost at the breaking point.

"Those are men out there Boromir. They're real. They mattered. They lived and breathed and now they are the sport of crows." She was disgusted with it all. Then her strength failed and tears began to slide down her face. "I've never seen dead men before." She confessed. Boromir pulled her up into his arms. A sob wracked her slim frame.

"Shhh. It's alright." She gripped him tightly. She just needed something to hold onto. "These men were soldiers. They fought and died honorable deaths. They fought for their wives and their children and their deaths will not be in vain."

"What about me?" He real fears were surfacing now, and she couldn't find it within herself to keep them silent.

"What do you mean?" Boromir asked. He gripped her shoulders and stepped back from her to look her in the eyes.

"I mean will I die in vain? Will I end just a corpse on a battle field before the end of this war?"

Boromir just looked at her. She couldn't quite discern the haunting look in his eyes.

"No." He said after a long moment. "No, that will not be your fate." She didn't believe him. He was just a man. He did not know what the Valar had planned for her, if they cared for her at all anymore. She looked wistfully away from him. His gripped tightened on her shoulders. "Look at me Daphnaie," he commanded. She looked back at him, wary of his forceful tone. "I promise that won't be your fate. I will protect you. You don't have to be afraid. I _will_ protect you." His compassion moved her. She wasn't entirely convinced, but she wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe him more than anything.

"Okay." She offered timidly. "Thank you, Boromir." She gave him one last watery smile before by silent agreement they both headed back to the horses. Leofric was still just sitting there, a forlorn look on his face. While Boromir mounted again, she put a comforting hand on Leofric's knee.

"Leofric?" she said quietly. "Leofric we must get going now." His eyes met hers then and the lost look in them almost made her burst into tears again.

"These men were my friends. I respected and admired them. They won't even get a proper burial. He closed his eyes. Her heart bled for him.

"Leofric, I—I'm so sorry. But we have to go now. There's nothing we can do for them except go on." Slowly he opened his eyes.

"Yes. You're right." He gave her a small smile but his eyes were still sad. "Let us leave this place." He helped her back onto the horse and the threesome set off again towards Helms Deep. They rode faster now, anxious to see if the scene on the hillside was a foreshadowing of worse things to come.

Hours later they finally spotted their destination in the distance. Both Boromir and Leofric exclaimed at the sight of a large forest bordering the fortress, though Daphnaie wasn't sure what was so strange about that. The forest did make her nervous, however. It had a darkness to it absent from her own forest. She was not about to stroll through these trees any time soon. As they approached the Keep, a dark look passed over Boromir. He seemed to grow more agitated the closer they got. They stopped when they reached the edge of the large cove Helm's Deep was built into.

It was clear that a great battle had been fought there, and though it seemed the Rohirrim had been victorious in the end, they had clearly suffered heavy losses. Scores of men and horses littered the field. A few soldiers walked among the bodies searching for survivors. A great hole had been blown out of the wall of the Keep. How had that happened? Daphnaie felt a little sick, but she was able to suppress the queasy feeling this time. Boromir surveyed the scene with an intense gaze.

"Boromir, let us go on." She said encouragingly. His head snapped in her direction, a harsh look in his eyes. Gone was the friend that had held her only hours before. It was like she was dealing with two different men.

"You!" He snapped at her, his face contorting with rage. Reflexively, she shrunk back behind Leofric. "You knew this would happen! How many more will die before you are done hmm? Am I to be next? Your dear Leofric perhaps?" Leofric reached an arm back around her protectively, but mostly he was too confused by Boromir's sudden outburst to do anything. Daphnaie was too shocked to come up with any clear defense. How could she? She had no idea what Boromir was talking about.

"Me? What have I done? You're mad!" Boromir laughed a sad, humorless laugh. "Yes I was mad." The harsh look in his eye dissolved into one of sorrow. "I was mad to fool myself into thinking I could trust you if even for a moment." With that, he turned from her and she watched his back as he rode for the Hornburg.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: And now for the big reunion! Things are picking up in this story:) Thanks so much for the reviews. I love 'em. Apologies for taking forever. **

Boromir tried to calm himself as he navigated the battlefield. He was furious at himself. Why hadn't he confronted Daphnaie? Why had he decided to keep quiet?

He shook his head. He knew why. He had been desperate for companionship. From his time in Lothlorien to the breaking of the Fellowship, he had felt alone. All his life he had been surrounded by people who loved him, who depended on him, and that had fueled him. Then it had all been suddenly ripped away. Though caused by the influence of the ring, his suspicion of everyone and desire for the power the ring could give him had driven him from his friends. He had woken from near death alone and with the realization that he had betrayed his friends. He had felt crippled, stripped of purpose. And then Daphnaie was there, and she had needed him. If nothing else, she needed his protection. If someone needed him, he had purpose and if he had purpose, he could go on. He could keep fighting. So in his fear of driving away the person who trusted him, who needed him, he had failed to act as he should have.

If he had confronted her about her lies before, he might have been able to, at the very least, send a warning to Theoden, for surely Daphnaie had known of Saruman's plans. Because of his cowardice, he had once again failed his friends. Was this the sort of person he was now—a craven and a traitor? As he began to ride up the ramp to the Hornburg, his pulse quickened. His nervousness made him feel less like a bold warrior and more like the small boy he once was. How would they receive him? Would they welcome him back to their company or would they scorn him for his past actions? Would Aragorn cast him out as a traitor? That possibility seemed more and more likely as Boromir dismounted his horse. The fear continued to grow in his heart as he tied up the steed next to a row of other Rohirric horses and began to thread his way through the throng of soldiers bustling about. All were so focused on their tasks that they paid Boromir little heed.

He searched the crowd for a familiar face. Surely if Aragorn were here Boromir would be able to spot his dark hair easily amid this sea of fair-haired Rohirric soldiers. Then he spotted her, a woman patching up the arm of a wounded man. But this was no ordinary nurse.

"Eowyn!" Boromir called as he pushed his way through the crowded passageway towards her. The White Lady of Rohan glanced up from her work and looked for the voice calling her. She was filthy, wearing a plain brown dress without embellishment, but all the same Eowyn looked like royalty. She had an air about her, a certain grace and strength that radiated from her like a true shield maiden of Rohan. Her eyes slid past Boromir at first but quickly snapped back and widened as she recognized him. He and Eowyn had been instant friends the first time they'd met in Edoras years ago, being so alike in personality—both proud and strong and fierce. He couldn't keep the grin from spreading over his face as she stood and rushed to meet him. The moment she reached him she threw her arms around him in a less-than-lady-like embrace.

"My God, Boromir. I don't believe it. They told me you were dead," she whispered into his chest. He was touched by the tears he saw in her eyes as he stepped back from her.

"Yes, well that does seem to be the rumor." He said unsure of how to reply. Then he was all business. There would be time for catching up later. "Lady Eowyn, my heart soars to see you again, but please put my fears to rest. Tell me of my friends. Do Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas yet live?" He looked at her hopefully. The weight pressing on his heart lessoned somewhat when she smiled broadly at him.

"Boromir, it gives me great pleasure to pass on to you these glad tidings. Your friends are well, weary from battle but otherwise in good health." They were alive! He hugged her once more and spun her around in his joy. Despite the odds, his friends had made it out of the Battle of Helms Deep unscathed.

"Can you take me to them? I must speak to them." He asked upon releasing her.

"Of course," she answered still smiling. "They are in conference with the King at the moment. Follow me." She led him through the crowd and further up into the keep till they reached a large set of plain oak doors. Two guards stood outside, but they relaxed when they saw it was Eowyn approaching. She stopped before entering and turned back towards Boromir. "Are you ready?" she asked him. Boromir could not remember a time when he had felt more ill at ease. No, he was most certainly not ready.

"Yes." He answered. With his go-ahead, Eowyn opened the doors and led Boromir into the expansive room beyond.

Silence.

All conversation within stopped dead as the few people in the room recognized the son of the steward. Every eye swung to Boromir. He surveyed the room of shocked faces, unable to speak yet. The company stood circled around a wide table covered in maps and other papers. Theoden was still in full armor with Eomer at his left shoulder looking utterly spent. It seemed to Boromir that his friend looked weary and not simply from battle. The pressures of the war and of his new responsibilities had not treated Eomer kindly. Gimli stood next to Eomer looking relaxed, his war axe propped up against the table. Aragorn was beside Gimli looking tired and bloody but whole, to Boromir's great relief. It was one thing to hear from Eowyn that his friends were alright. It was another thing entirely to see it himself. Beside Aragorn was Legolas looking…Boromir nearly rolled his eyes. Legolas looked perfect, not a hair out of place. If not for the few smears of gore on his tunic, Boromir would not have believed Legolas had spent the last several hours in battle. _Bloody elf. _

Beside Legolas on Theoden's other shoulder was a man Boromir never thought to see again.

"Gandalf!" Boromir's voice rang out in the silent room. "How is this possible? I thought you dead!" Gandalf's initial shock settled into an amused smile.

"I could say the same to you, master Boromir." Gandalf's words snapped everyone out of their daze. All, sans Theoden, rushed to Boromir, offering kind greetings and embracing him.

"Seems like I picked the right fellowship," Gimli said with a chuckle. "First Gandalf, then Aragorn, and now Boromir returns from the dead to jump right back into the fray. At this rate, the lot of us might as well storm Mordor ourselves. Who could stop us?"

"I had thought Ialone was immortal in this fellowship. Must you men continue to make a fool of me?" Legolas put in patting Boromir on the back.

Boromir's relief at his welcome was immense, but when Aragon grasped his forearm firmly and placed a hand on his shoulder, Boromir remembered his shame.

"Forgive me, Aragorn. I have dishonored you and our people. My betrayal at Amen Hen was—."

"Betrayal?" Aragorn interjected. "You and I remember Amen Hen very differently." Boromir peered into the grey eyes of his brother—his king—and found no anger, no scorn, nothing but joy at his return. "I remember only your brave defense of the halflings. I remember you protecting them in the face of scores of Uruk- Hai, and indeed I remember you dying rather than abandon them. Yet, here you stand before me. How can this be?" Aragorn looked at Boromir with awe in his eyes.

"I am not entirely certain." Boromir said after a pause. "I will try to explain as best I can." He told them of the strange healer who had saved his life, talked briefly of their travels to and out of Edoras, and, finally, told them of his suspicions.

"So you believed this Daphnaie was a spy and still you allowed her to roam freely across my land?" Theoden asked sternly. Boromir bristled at his tone. Theoden may be king of Rohan, but Boromir was the son of the steward of Gondor, captain of the White Tower, and a proven commander and leader of men. He would not be spoken down to.

"She was hardly free. She was never out of my sight. I thought it best to keep her with me, perhaps discover some of Saruman's plans through her." Boromir answered in his defense.

"And did you? Do you have some information for us that made this gamble of yours worthwhile?" Boromir answered Theoden with a scowl.

.

"I…no."

"Hmm," Theoden said with a shrug that added: _I didn't think so_. "Where is this girl now?"

"I left her with Leofric, one of yours." Boromir answered evenly. "They should be somewhere in the keep now."

"Eomer." Theoden said turning to his nephew.

"Yes, my Lord?" Eomer asked, not sounding nearly as drained as he looked.

"Take the guards outside the door and bring this spy to me. I should like to know Saruman's next move."

"Aye." Eomer answered and exited the large double-doors.

_Finally. _Boromir thought. _Daphnaie will be shown for what she truly is, and then her bothersome presence will be removed forever from my life. _And that was a good thing, wasn't it?

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

It smelled here. Outside the walls of Helm's Deep, fires burned and the rusty smell of blood saturated the air, and though Daphnaie was thankful to escape the horror of the battle scene, the air inside the walls was not much better. The rank smell of horses and sweaty soldiers and other filthy things was inescapable. Leofric stopped to tie up the horse and helped Daphnaie dismount, but he didn't look her in the eye. He hadn't said one word to her since Boromir's outburst. Daphnaie sighed. It was so unfair. What had she ever done but help? It hurt her to be accused like this, but it hurt more that Boromir was the one doing the accusing. She had thought she had proven herself, that they were…what? Friends? Ha! How ridiculous. She didn't have friends. She was above friends. She was better than Boromir, she was better than Leofric, and she was better than the rest of them too. Of course she was. She had been an immortal. She had centuries under her belt, centuries to accumulate knowledge and wisdom they would never know, and what were these men? They were nothing.

Then why did Boromir's disapproval make her feel so small?

Daphnaie glanced to her left and saw a group of healers patching up some minor injuries. She should help them. She was not so above helping the suffering. She was more than capable, and these men were….they were soldiers. They were so noble and so brave. She envied that. She longed to find some courage in herself. She made up her mind. These men deserved help, and she would give it to them. Before she could take her first step though, Leofric grabbed her by the arm.

"What are you doing? Let me go!" She said angrily.

"Wait look," Leofric said nodding up the walkway. Daphnaie looked and saw two soldiers led by a strikingly tall man wearing a magnificent horse-head helmet. "That's Eomer," Leofric said, still without looking at her. "The king's nephew and heir."

"Oh," she replied lamely. "He's big." Leofric smiled a little. She felt suddenly nervous as the great man stopped in front of them, and she grabbed onto the end of Leofric's sleeve. He glanced down at her then but didn't pull away.

"Are you Leofric?" Eomer asked firmly.

"I am, my Lord." Leofric answered dipping his head quickly.

"Then this must be Lord Boromir's prisoner." He looked over at Daphnaie. Alarm shot through her. Prisoner? She was a prisoner now? That did not bode well. Leofric seemed to be thinking the same thing, for he stepped in front of her slightly.

"Where is Lord Boromir?" Leofric demanded. Eomer glared at Leofric.

"He's with the king, who has sent me to bring her to him. Step aside Leofric." Loefric looked as though he might refuse.

_Please Leofric. Please don't let them take me. _Daphnaie thought desperately. But then Leofric took a step to the left, leaving Daphnaie at the mercy of the guards.

"Yes, my Lord." He said bowing his head. Eomer stepped forward and grabbed both of Daphnaie's wrists with one big hand. She jerked away from him.

"What do you think you're doing?" She said but her voice came out smaller than she had intended.

"My lady, don't make this more difficult than this has to be." Eomer said, his tone gentle. Daphnaie looked at Leofric for help, but he simply nodded his head at her. Reluctantly Daphnaie brought her wrists together and stuck them out in from of her. Eomer took a short rope and deftly tied it around her outstretched hands.

Eomer took her up through the curved passageways of Helm's Deep, stopping only once he'd reached a set of large oak doors.

"Prepare yourself." Eomer said to her. "The king does not always keep his temper…in check." He looked down at her with pity, then swung open the doors and led her in. "My lord," Eomer said to Theoden with a bow as he reached the center of the room. "This is the girl, Lord Boromir's prisoner." Daphnaie was aware of the other people in the room, but she was too terrified to look anywhere but at the man wearing blood stained armor standing only a few feet in front of her. He looked at her hatefully.

"What did he promise you?" Theoden asked her.

"Who?" Daphnaie replied softly.

"Saruman. What did he offer you? I imagine it must have been quite spectacular for you to agree to help murder thousands of innocents, for you to help rip husbands from their wives and leave children without homes. Please, I'm very curious to know what you got out of all of this." What was she to say to that? She could feel herself starting to shake.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I…I never—"

"Don't lie to me!" Theoden yelled at her. He stormed up to her, and pointed his finger at her accusingly. "I know what you are. No matter what it takes I _will_ rid these lands of poisonous snakes like you. He turned his head to look at someone beside her, presumably Eomer but Daphnaie's vision was starting to blur from unshed tears, and she couldn't quite tell."Lock her up. I don't have time for this right now." Theoden said and stomped away. Eomer took her by the elbow to lead her out of the room. She didn't struggle. She was glad to go. But when Eomer turned her around she saw him, Boromir, and anger surged through her. She looked him right in the eye.

"What did I do to make you hate me so much?" She asked him as tears started to fall. "Why would you condemn me like this?" Boromir did not respond. He started to turn away from her. _How dare he._

"I regret it," she said under her breath, but he heard and looked back at her.

"What?"

"I should never have saved your life. I should have let you die at Amen Hen. Then none of this would've happened. No one would hate me. No one would hurt me. You couldn't hurt me. Dead things can't hurt anyone." Shock shone in his eyes. He didn't respond. He just stood there silently, staring at her. Eomer tugged on her elbow then so she turned away from Boromir and slowly walked back to the double doors. Just before she exited the horrible room she glanced behind her one last time, but her eyes didn't find Boromir. She found instead an old friend, her only old friend.

"Gandalf?"

**A/N I know, I know. Don't worry. Everyone's upset now but I promise good times are ahead. So what did you think?**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: And so the story continues…**

**o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o**

Boromir stood there in shocked silence as Daphnaie walked towards the exit. He looked on as she turned her head, glancing back over her shoulder one last time, but her eyes did not meet his own.

"Gandalf?" She gasped. Boromir was…stunned. The room flooded with the sounds of whispers. She knew Gandalf? But how? If Boromir was stunned, then Gandalf was even more so. A look of shock and confusion was etched into his features.

"Have we met?" He asked in his raspy voice.

"Yes!" She cried, her expression somewhere between joy and panic. She broke away from Eomer, who did not seem much inclined to stop her, and ran to Gandalf. She stopped directly in front of him and stared into his eyes, pleading. "Please Gandalf, you know me. Say that you know me. We are old friends, you and I. You must remember." Leaning heavily on his staff, Gandalf took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up looking intently at her, searching for something. Boromir found the whole display foolish. Gandalf should not be humoring her last desperate efforts to lie her way out of imprisonment. But rather than push her away, Gandalf did something Boromir never expected. He recognized her.

"Yes…. yes I do know you." Gandalf said slowly dropping his hands to his sides. "You are that dryad from Amon Hen, my lovely friend the Laurel." He said with a smile. Her relief was immediately apparent. Tears of joy escaped from the corners of her eyes. Boromir started to feel sick to his stomach. Gandalf took his old, wise eyes off of Daphnaie and turned to Eomer.

"Cut her bonds." Gandalf ordered.

"What?" Boromir shouted.

"Stay where you are, Eomer." Theoden, who had been observing the events with growing confusion, commanded in a loud voice. "Gandalf, what is the meaning of this?" Gandalf put a comforting hand on Daphnaie's shoulder and addressed the king.

"My lord Theoden, all will be made clear, but first release this poor girl." Theoden hesitated for a moment then gave Eomer a swift nod. Boromir stepped forward to protest, but Aragorn grabbed his arm.

"Just wait," Aragorn said quietly. "Gandalf is no fool. Let us here what he has to say." Boromir silently nodded his assent.

Eomer crossed the room in a few long strides and ever so gently cut the ropes off Daphnaie's wrists. He leaned in and whispered something to her, something that made her smile, but it was said too quietly for Boromir to hear. Eomer stepped away as Gandalf began to speak.

"I have traveled through Amon Hen many times, Lord Theoden, and most times were uneventful. There was one day, however, that I felt something, another presence with me in the forest. Patiently I waited, and eventually my patience was rewarded. One of the rarest creatures in all of middle-earth, a dryad, revealed herself to me. And now to all of you. " He said gesturing at the men about the room.

"Forgive me, Gandalf," Theoden interrupted, "You'll have to refresh my memory. A dryad is a…?"

"A dryad is a woman that the Valar have seen fit to bless with immortality and task with keeping watch over the forest. In many ways, they are similar to Elves, but possess a much less…subtle kind of magic."

"And this woman in front of me is one of these beings?" Theoden asked. "Have you taken leave of your senses, Wizard? She's just a girl, a pretty little thing, sure, but no more like an elflike than I am."

"Certainly she is only human now," Gandalf said gruffly "but I assure you Theoden she _is _the dryad I met at Amon Hen. Let us give her a chance to explain how this came to pass." Theoden and Gandalf both turned to Daphnaie expectantly. She just stood there nervously, her lips tightly shut.

"See how she has become mute," Boromir whispered to Aragorn. "It is because she has no explanation. Gandalf is mistaken."

"We shall see," returned Aragorn.

"Well? Can you explain why, if Gandalf met you as a Dryad, you stand before us now mortal?" Theoden said. Daphnaie took a deep, steadying breath then raised her arm and pointed at Boromir.

"I did it for him." She admitted quietly. Boromir's heart thumped loudly in his chest. It couldn't be true. She wasn't a dryad. She continued, "It was all for him. He was dying. He was dead! I did the only thing I could think of. My magic, my…I lost everything to save him." She looked over at Boromir long and hard then. The sadness in her eyes pulled at him. It was as though she was communicating directly to him what it was like for her to lose everything. For a moment, he could feel the loss too. He believed her, he realized. The truth was right there in her eyes.

"Boromir." Boromir abruptly jerked out of his reverie. "Did she ever say or do anything to contradict the explanation she has provided?" Theoden asked.

"Never." Boromir answered without hesitation. Theoden nodded his head and addressed Daphnaie once again.

"Very well then." He sighed, sounding tired. "I will accept your story as true. You are no longer a prisoner, but I warn you. Do not take advantage of my trust. Gandalf, I leave her in you charge." Boromir thought the old man looked distinctly annoyed to hear that. "Now be gone with you. I have preparations to make. Tomorrow, we must ride to Isengard." Those that were not needed to assist Theoden began to depart. Nervously Boromir walked to where Daphnaie stood and gently reached out to place a hand on her back.

"Daphnaie I—."

"Don't touch me!" She hissed and stormed out of the room. Boromir moved to go after her, but Gandalf placed a restraining hand on his arm.

"I think, lord Boromir, it would be wiser for me to speak to her first." Boromir nodded his head, and Gandalf left to find Daphnaie. Aragorn took the place where Gandalf had been standing. Feeling the need to defend himself, Boromir turned to Aragorn.

"I truly believed she was a spy. If I had thought for…for a moment that she was innocent, I wouldn't…I would never have—."

"I know, Boromir." Aragorn said in that understanding way of his. "It was wise of you to be on your guard. Yes, you were wrong, but that is a good thing is it not? In this case, would you have truly desired to be right? Rather than an enemy, we have gained a friend, one with centuries of knowledge. Fear not. You have done no wrong that cannot be undone. All will be well." Boromir sighed.

"Thank you. I pray you are right. I pray she does not find me as unworthy of forgiveness as I feel."

"Well what are you two prattling on about?" Gimli said joining the two men. Boromir put his hand to his heart and feigned shock at Gimli's sudden appearance.

"Eru! Forgive me master Gimli, I'm afraid I didn't see you. I suppose had I been looking down at my boots, I would have noticed you sooner." Gimli's face turned beet red with indignation.

"What? Didn't see me? I ought to…." He drifted into some grumbling then that Boromir didn't quite catch, but he was sure it involved a curse or two. He chuckled aloud.

"Oh? Think yer funny do ya?" Gimli started up again. "Perhaps you should try to win back yer lovely lady with yer wonderful sense of humor. 'Forgive me my lady, I'm afraid I didn't realize you weren't a spy. I suppose had my head not been so far up my arse, I would have noticed that sooner." All were silent, Boromir looking sternly down at Gimli, and Gimli glaring right back. Maybe thirty seconds went by. Then all three men burst into laughter, relieved to be settling into old routines.

**o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o**

Daphnaie sat alone, glaring angrily out a window overlooking the busy happenings of the lower keep. She had found an unused room up a narrow staircase and now sat there fuming over the morning's events. She wondered briefly as she looked down on the many soldiers moving about, where Leofric might be and if he would be cold to her next time they met. She wasn't upset with him. He had not accused her of anything. She was relieved to have been found innocent of any of Boromir's ridiculous accusations but that she had been accused at all still made her furious. How could he? After everything she had done, how could he not trust her?

"I wish I'd never met him." She said aloud to herself. "I wish I had never left Amon Hen."

"Now now, my dear. Things are not altogether as bad as they seem." Daphnaie's head jerked up, and her cheeks turned red with embarrassment when she saw Gandalf.

"Oh! I…I didn't hear you come in." She shuffled over awkwardly to make room for him on the old cot she was sitting on. He sat down heavily beside her flinging up dust.

"How long has it been since you left Amon Hen?" She wasn't sure what she was expecting him to say but that wasn't it.

"I…I'm not sure. I think it has been about a week." Gandalf nodded.

"A week. That is not so significant a length of time. Do you not think you should wait perhaps a little longer before condemning that decision? There is a chance, however unlikely, that things might yet work out. All you have to do is give it a chance. Or are you quite determined to be unhappy?"

"Well no of course I'm not determined to be unhappy, but what cause have I for happiness? Boromir has—."

"Oh, do not be so hard on Boromir." Gandalf interrupted. "He is not a bad man. He made mistakes, mistakes he was terrified of repeating, and in his fear he has wronged you, yes. But not out of a desire to harm you. I will not tell you to forgive him, you must make that decision yourself, but do not be so quick to pass out judgment Daphnaie. None of us is faultless. Now, I must go. I have many things yet to do." He made to stand but Daphnaie placed a hand on his arm.

"Thank you, Gandalf. I…I'm so happy you're here." She said truly. He patted her hand clumsily and stood.

"Yes well, I really should be going. I'm glad to see you again. You should go and eat something."

"Oh, no. I think I'd rather just stay up here out of the way for a while." She did not want to see _him._ Gandalf seemed to understand what she meant but he said only, "very well then," and took his leave. Then she was alone in the room again. She sighed and returned her attention to the people outside the window.

"Maybe he's right." She said aloud. "Perhaps I should—"

"Ah here you are." Eomer said from the doorway. Daphnaie jumped in surprise.

"Valar! Eomer what are you doing here?" She feared the worst, that the king had changed his mind or Boromir had brought up some new accusation against her.

"I thought you might be hungry." He said smiling. "There is some food prepared down below. I came to escort you to the meal." Relieved that it was nothing worse, she now had a new suspicion.

"How very considerate of you, my lord. I should be pleased to accompany you."

"It is no trouble at all, my lady." He returned with a cocky sort of grin offering her his arm. She placed her hand gently on it. As he began leading her down the stairs, she decided to have a bit of fun with him. He was looking much too pleased with himself.

"Thank you again for offering to escort me, Eomer. You are very kind." She said sweetly.

"Don't think on it another moment. It is an honor to escort a woman as lovely as you anywhere. I could not resist." He said looking down at her warmly. She paused only a moment.

"Tell me. Did you by any chance speak to Gandalf a moment ago?" His smile faltered fleetingly.

"Indeed. I met him in the hallway."

"I see. And did he suggest that you come fetch me to dinner?" His smile disappeared entirely.

"He…may have hinted that you were feeling a little hungry."

"That's very interesting." Eomer chuckled.

"Now now, I don't think this is behavior befitting a lady." If Eomer thought he could get her to give up the game that easily, he was in for a surprise.

"Whatever do you mean?" Daphnaie asked innocently.

"Lady Daphnaie, do you know that my men sometimes call me the "Lion of Rohan"?

"I did not." She replied wondering at his point.

"You should never tease a lion." He said as they entered the dining hall. She raised a challenging eyebrow at him. He leaned in and whispered, "that is, unless you want to be bitten." She froze. She was sure everyone in the room could see her blush. Eomer stepped away from her with a smirk. "Why don't you go find a seat and I'll go find us some food," he said taking off. She watched him go for a moment then looked around for an empty seat.

It was a large space though certainly no great hall. A lone fire burned in a hearth on the back wall and a few rough, wooden tables were scattered around the room. It was a gloomy place. It lacked all the warmth of Edoras. Daphnaie would find no lovely tapestries here. Men and women were sitting at tables or leaning on the grey stone walls talking and eating. Daphnaie saw a mostly empty table to her right, so she headed in that direction. She took a seat facing the entrance and let her mind wander for a while. What would she do now that she was free to do as she wished? Up till now she'd simply been following Boromir. That did not seem like much of an option at this point. She felt lost. She could stay with the Rohirric women to be a healer. They would likely return to Edoras. That wouldn't be so bad. She found the grass seas soothing and she'd have plenty of useful work to do.

But she would be alone.

Where would she stay? What would she eat? She was afraid of going off on her own. She wasn't ready. Her eyes fell on Eomer who was walking towards her with two plates. Perhaps she would go with him. He seemed to be an honorable man. He was very kind to her. When the King had been against her, and she had feared the worst, Eomer had cut her bonds and whispered that he would make certain no one harmed her. If she went with the soldiers to Isengard, he would look out for her.

Eomer joined her at the table a moment later, and set a plate down in front of her. It had some bread, cheese, and a little of some sort of meat. A meager portion, but Daphnaie was not particularly hungry anyway.

"Thank you." She said, then took a bite of cheese. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"My lady, I confess I find you fascinating." Eomer said with only a hint of a smirk.

"Oh really?" She laughed. "What is so intriguing about me?"

"Don't laugh. You were, for a time at least, an immortal being. There is nothing strange about me being curious about that." He took a large bite of his bread.

"Right, of course that. What would you like to know?"

"How old are you?" He asked animatedly. She rolled her eyes.

"That's a rude thing to ask a lady." She answered not really offended.

"Humor me." He said before taking a swig from his mug.

"Well I can't be sure, but I believe I'm around 3,000 years old." Eomer nearly choked on his water.

"3,000! That's incredible."

"It's not so impressive really." She said embarrassed. "There are plenty of elves older than that."

"But to live through ages! I can't imagine how much you've seen."

"Not much really. You'd be surprised how little. I'm actually quite jealous of _you_."

"Of me?" He looked utterly surprised.

"Yes. You're a horse lord. You must have traveled all over." One of the few good things about becoming mortal was that she was able to leave Amon Hen. She was so enjoying seeing new places, even places as dank as Helms Deep. Eomer rubbed the back of his neck.

"I've never left the borders of Rohan. I'm sure I've seen every inch of these lands but beyond them, nothing."

"Oh." Daphnaie said simply. There was a pause where neither said anything. Then Daphnaie laughed. She couldn't help herself. She tilted her head back and laughed joyfully. Eomer simply looked confused.

"Something funny?"

"I just cannot believe how boring we are." She said between laughs. Eomer understood then, and his eyes wrinkled in amusement.

"You're right. You must be the most boring 3,000 year old I've ever met."

"And you are truly the dullest future king I've ever come in contact with."

"My worst quality." Eomer said with mock sadness.

"I've never travelled beyond my own borders." Daphnaie said gruffly in her best "Eomer" voice. Then in her own voice, "Please Eomer tell me more!"

"Hey!" Eomer complained and swatted at her playfully from across the tabled. She avoided him, still laughing wildly. He said something else then, but she didn't catch it. Her eyes were glued to the entrance way, where Boromir had just entered. He stared right back at her.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I know. I know. I always take ages. I'm sorry! **

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Daphnaie stood abruptly.

"Something the matter?" Eomer asked confused.

"I need some air," she said quickly, her eyes never leaving Boromir. "Is there another exit from this room?" She was trying to keep her voice calm, but it was not cooperating.

"Yes, just over there." Eomer said, confusion on his face, pointing to a door a few paces to her left on the back wall. "Daphnaie, are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes! Really, I'm fine." She said, aware that she sounded anything but. She tried to flash him a reassuring smile. It came out more like a cringe. "Please, finish your meal. I will see you tomorrow."

She sped to the doorway without looking back. It led to a narrow spiraling stairway. She headed down. Hopefully, the stairs led back to the lower levels of the Hornburg where many people were still busily moving about. The stairs were steep and only the barest amount of light was trickling through small windows high up the walls, so she could not move as quickly as she wanted. After a minute of hurrying downward, she stopped to catch her breath.

"Daphnaie?" a voice questioned from a short way up the stairs. She heard heavy footsteps approaching. Oh, no. He had followed her. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? She started moving again, flying down the steep stairway as quickly as she could in the dim light. Not fast enough. He caught up with her before she reached the bottom. "My lady, please wait!" Boromir said reaching out to her. She stopped, defeated. Slowly, she turned to face him. She had to crane her neck up for he was several steps above her still.

"What do you want? Can you not just leave me be?" Daphnaie said exasperated. Boromir frowned down at her.

"Not until you have heard me out at." He took a step closer to her. "Just allow me to speak for a moment, and then I will leave you be." Daphnaie sighed audibly.

"Oh, very well." She said unhappily. "What would you say to me? Is there something you forgot, some other accusation you would like to throw at me?" He flinched at that.

"I would…I would beg your pardon." He took another step forward, looking at her seriously. "I have been a fool. I was wrong about you, about everything." He shook his head in frustration and continued angrily, "I seem capable only of dishonoring myself as of late. I have mistrusted and injured you—you, the one who saved my life, the one who sacrificed so much." He took her hands in his. "Might we begin anew?"

"What do you mean?" Daphnaie asked, skeptical.

"Could we put these past few weeks behind us? I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I ask for it." He looked down at her with hopeful eyes. She didn't know what to say. He wanted her forgiveness? Mr. High-and-Mighty was standing in front of her full of remorse. How…odd. She almost laughed, but decided that was likely not the appropriate response. All the same, it did warm her heart. She found, looking up into grey eyes filled with guilt that her anger and hurt were slipping away from her. She also became very aware of the warm hands grasping her own.

"I should tell you, I've never forgiven anyone before." She said. His face fell. "But," she went on, "that might be because I have never had anyone I was angry with before."

"I do not understand." Boromir said. Daphnaie resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Have you forgotten everything?" She asked. "I was alone Boromir, remember? There was no one for me to be angry with." Boromir quirked an eyebrow up.

"Well, you are certainly a natural at it my lady." There was a tense pause, then Daphnaie laughed and pulled her hands out of Boromir's in mock annoyance.

"I suppose you are right." She said. "I do seem to have taken to anger rather well. Perhaps I could be just as good at forgiveness, hmm?" Boromir offered her a brilliant smile shining with relief. She felt warm all over. They could be friends again. He trusted her. All would be well.

"Lady, I am so pleased to hear you say that. It would have pained me to leave with you still so upset with me." Daphnaie's eyebrows furrowed.

"Leave? What do you mean?"

"Gandalf has been in conference with King Theoden. He has advised against waiting till tomorrow. We ride for Isengard this very night." He said.

"Oh!" Daphnaie said. " I did not realize, but as I will be going with you to Isengard, even if I had not forgiven you, we still would not have parted ways."

"What? Of course you are not coming." Boromir said shocked. "You will stay here with the rest of the women." Daphnaie's eyes narrowed. Boromir was not her master. It was not in his power to forbid her from doing this or that.

"I will not be left behind." She said chin raised.

"You most certainly will." Boromir said sternly. "King Theoden would never allow you to come, and neither would I." Daphnaie crossed her arms defiantly.

"I am not a citizen of Rohan, nor am I a prisoner here. King Theoden has no power over me. He has no right to prevent my going."

"You are a guest in his halls. He has every right! If nothing else, you cannot command him to give you a horse, and as you have none of your own—" She waved her hand dismissively and turned to leave before he could finish that thought. She had heard enough. Boromir placed a hand on her arm to stop her. "You must understand." He said gently. "Though he sent the larger part of his host here, Saruman is not to be underestimated, and foul creatures still roam these lands. It is not safe. If you came along you'd be frightened out of your skin or worse." He did not elaborate on exactly what "worse" entailed, but Daphnaie could guess. She shivered.

"Very well, Boromir." She said, looking down at the cold stone steps. "Just—" She looked up into his eyes once more. "Be safe." He held her gaze for a moment longer.

"I will be sorry to leave you, Daphnaie." He finally said. She smiled sadly at him.

"Not as sorry as I will be to watch you leave." Then she turned and waked down the few remaining steps and out the door.

She _would_ be sorry to see him leave. If only she could go with him, but he was right. She wouldbe frightened out of her skin, and even if King Theoden could be persuaded to give her a horse, she still didn't know how to ride. She would be a burden. But it was almost worse to be left behind. Without Boromir, she would be on her own. What was she to do now? She felt herself falling into despair when it suddenly came to her.

Leofric.

Of course! She must find Leofric. He would help her. Now where could he be?

The stairs had brought her to the base of the Burg and into an expansive room filled with bustling people. Men moved supplies around, and women either tended to the children or the wounded. It all seemed quite miserable to Daphnaie. The people were dirty and starved and every so often the pained cry of the suffering and the grieving could be heard above the din. The last stronghold of Rohan was crafted of cold and unyielding stone that brought little comfort to the people residing within. Daphnaie felt very uncomfortable in the middle of it all. She still wasn't used to the horrors of war. It was difficult to block out the suffering of others, to continue on with her own business when so much emotion was whirling around her. She would be glad to leave this place. Yet as she continued watching the people moving about she saw something in their eyes that made her pause. There was hope left in them. They had just won a great victory, and they were proud and relieved, and they were grateful for the sacrifice of those who would never return. That was enough to keep them going. And Daphnaie supposed, if it was enough for them, it ought to be enough for her. With that, she stepped out of her momentary despair and remembered what she was doing. She was trying to find Leofric.

She steadily pushed her way through the throng of people. A series of enormous columns and archways supported one end of the room and led out to a terrace overlooking the great keep. She stepped out onto the terrace and felt immediately refreshed by the chill breeze blowing and whipping her hair around her face. She strode down a central stair to the inner court and pushed through more people and carts of supplies, down some more stairs to the outer court, where she had last seen Leofric. She found where he had tied up the horse. It was still there along with several other horses, and a young boy, maybe nine and looking very dirty but full of energy, was brushing it down. Daphnaie approached him cautiously. How was one supposed to talk to a child? She wasn't sure. She never interacted with any. Certainly no child had ever travelled by Amen Hen during her time there, at least not that she could remember. Could it even speak? When did children learn language? The boy glanced over at her but continued brushing the horse.

"Hello there. My name is Daphnaie." She said awkwardly, crouching down to his level. The boy kept brushing, but he looked over and smiled brightly at her.

"Hi. I'm Aldhelm." The boy could speak! Thank the Valar for small mercies. Daphnaie sighed inwardly with relief.

"You're doing a lovely job taking care of these horses, Aldhelm." The boy smiled proudly up at her.

"Thank you miss. Father says I've got real talent. He says I might even be stable hand for the king some day!" Daphnaie was warmed by the child's enthusiasm.

"That's quite impressive." She praised. "I wonder, do you think you can help me?" Aldhelm nodded enthusiastically. "I'm looking for a soldier, the man who owns this horse," she said indicating the one Aldhelm was presently grooming. "Do you know where he's gone?" Aldhelm scrunched his face up, thinking.

"Yes!" He said excitedly after a moment. "He said he was going to the caves. He asked me to brush down his horse, and I've done a good job of it, I have."

"Oh thank you!" Daphnaie said. "I better be off now, but thanks so much." She turned to go then stopped abruptly and turned back around. "Sorry but, where exactly are the caves?" She asked slightly embarrassed.

"There's a way in at the back of the Burg. Mum doesn't normally let me go in the caves, but I got to stay all last night like a grownup!" He said .Daphnaie paused. She was glad that he didn't seem to realize why exactly he stayed in the caves last night. Let him keep his innocence as long as he can. Before she could leave, Aldhelm spoke again. "When you find him, the soldier, could you tell him what a good job I've done with the horse?" Daphnaie smiled warmly down at the boy, so young and eager to please.

"Yes, of course I will, and I'll be sure to mention what a great service you've done me as well." Aldhelm simply beamed at that. "Good-bye," Daphnaie said and then she was off. She rushed up the slope of the outer court, then the inner court, then finally the steps up to the Burg, and didn't stop running till she had reached the entrance of the caves, and not then by choice. Awe and wonder stopped her feet mid-step.

The caves behind Helm's Deep were magnificent. The walls were veined with shining metals and set with glittering gemstones. The ceilings were vaulted high, so high, and they gleamed brilliantly in the torchlight. The yawning caverns of Helm's Deep were vast and grand, and they glittered and shined so strikingly no description could do them justice. The caves were the most beautiful thing she had ever beheld, always had been.

Wait.

_Always had been? _But she'd never seen them before. Of course not. How could she have? And yet…

"Daphnaie? What are you doing here?" A familiar voice said from beside her. Daphnaie turned abruptly towards Leofric nearly colliding with him.

"Oh I'm sorry!" She said embarrassed. Looking for you as it so happens." He looked momentarily startled, then smiled down at her.

"How may I be of service, my lady?" He said with a small bow. Daphnaie turned away again to look back at the caves.

"First you can tell me about this place." Perhaps something would jog her memory.

"The caves? Yes, they are a spectacle. We don't often come to Helm's Deep. I had forgotten the beauty hidden here. This place is called the glittering caves in the common tongue, but among the Rohirrim this is the—."

"Glæmscrafu," she finished for him.

"Yes that's right." He said looking a bit surprised. "How did you know?"

"Oh I didn't... I mean, I must have just overheard someone talking about it is all." Daphnaie lied. She recalled it as if from a half-remembered dream. It was too much. She didn't want to think about it right now.

"What does it mean in Rohirric?" She asked. She needed him to keep talking, to distract her thoughts.

"Caves of radiance, but the name hardly does the place justice. There is a rumor going 'round that the dwarf, the one travelling with Lord Aragorn, said that he has never seen such beauty in any of the dwarven dwellings. " A look of pride passed over Leofric's face at such a description of one of his people's homes.

"Indeed? High praise. "

"Yes, very." He agreed. "Anyway, was there some other reason that you sought me out?" He asked kindly. Daphnaie felt suddenly awkward, not sure what to say. 'Please take care of me' seemed a tad pathetic.

"Oh, yes well…I…as I'm sure you know, King Theoden is riding out this evening with a small guard."

"Yes, I had heard. I wish he would take a larger company, but I suppose time is an issue. Still, I wish I could go, but I am assigned to escort the people back to Edoras."

"Yes, that is part of what I wanted to talk to you about. I am not allowed to ride out with the company either."

"Not surprising." He said matter-of-factly. "It's really not the place for a—"

"A what?" Daphnaie asked tightly.

"A…novice rider." Leofric said in a heroic effort to avoid a verbal thrashing. Daphnaie decided to be merciful as she did still need him.

"Indeed." She said simply. "Since I cannot go with Theoden, I shall be accompanying the rest of the people back to Edoras."

"Yes, quite right. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I still don't understand what you need from me."

"Well…" she hesitated. "You see, I'll be on my own, and I'm at a loss for what to do. I had Boromir before, but he'll be leaving with Theoden and now I…"

"Oh, of course. I'm such a fool. I didn't even think." Leofric said sympathetically. "We must find someone to look out for you. I'd let you ride with me again, but I will be on duty. Have no fear, though, I know the perfect person. Follow me." Leofric took her by the hand and led her deeper into the caves. They pushed through dozens of people still packing and preparing for the journey home. Daphnaie noticed a number of narrow passageways leading away from the large cavern they now occupied. They passed one such path that might have been mistaken for only a shallow fissure in the wall, except that a few women were entering it and some writing that Daphnaie couldn't make out was carved into the wall. Her eyes followed the women down the path, into the darkness, until she could not see them anymore, and then a vision passed before her waking eyes.

_Blackness and a chill wind. Water, dark water. She couldn't breathe. She was drowning!_

"Daphnaie, what's wrong? Why have you stopped?" Leofric asked pulling lightly on her hand. Daphnaie snapped back to the present.

"Nothing! I'm fine. I'm sorry. Please, lead on." Leofric continued walking then, but before they had walked more than a few steps Daphnaie gathered the courage to ask: "Leofric, is there a lake somewhere in the caves?"

"Yes," he answered without stopping or turning around. "Down one of the side passages. It's in quite a massive cavern, bigger than this one. It's good water besides, invaluable during a siege."

"Yes, yes I'd imagine so." Daphnaie said, but she wasn't really listening. What was she seeing? What was wrong with her?

Loefric stopped inside a small alcove where many women were busy prepping wounded soldiers for travel. Some men were being carried out on cots; others were given canes or crutches if their wounds weren't as severe. Ordinary looking women in long brown and grey dresses were changing bandages or else packing up supplies. One younger looking woman was in the middle of the room and seemed to be in charge. She looked tired and dirty, but she passed out instructions with the cool confidence of one accustomed to giving orders. She looked up then and smiled when she saw Leofric. Her whole appearance changed with the smile. She looked younger, healthier.

"Leofric, how are you?" she said by way of greeting.

"Quite well, Lady Eowyn, thank you. " Leofric answered walking up to her. "I have a favor to ask, my lady."

"Oh?" she asked, amusement in her eyes.

"Allow me to introduce Daphnaie." He said pulling Daphnaie in front of him. Daphnaie curtsied uncomfortably and then stood silent until Leofric gave her a look that clearly said she should say something.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady. I've heard a lot about you."

"And I, you." She said grinning widely now. "What can I do for you two?"

"Lady Daphnaie has been denied permission to join the King's journey to Isengard." Leofric said.

"Then Lady Daphnaie is not alone." Eowyn said, losing some of her humor. "I take it you are to be sent safely home with me and the rest of the weaker sex."

"Daphnaie is to travel back to Edoras with us, yes." Leofric said. "Only, Daphnaie is a stranger to these lands. The King left her under Gandalf's charge but he too will be traveling to Isengard."

"And you would like me to take her under my wing. Is that it?" Eowyn said, not unkindly.

"If it's not too much trouble." Leofric smiled charmingly.

"No, of course it isn't. I would be honored if you would travel with me, Daphnaie. I've heard such tales about you. I'm curious to know how much I've heard is true." Daphnaie just smiled nervously.

"Excellent." Leofric said brightly. Then I shall leave her in your capable hands. I'm sure you will be a good influence on her." Daphnaie spared him an annoyed glance for that.

"I shall take good care of her. Now, off with you Leofric. I'm sure you have work to do." Eowyn said.

"Yes, goodbye Lady Eowyn." He said with a small bow. "I will see you in Edoras, Daphnaie." And then he left, disappearing into the throng of people moving about the caves. Daphnaie watched him go, then turned slowly to Eowyn.

"You are too generous, my lady. Thank you for allowing me to travel to Edoras with you." Daphnaie said smiling, grateful to not be traveling alone.

"Don't be ridiculous, you aren't going to Edoras." Eowyn said dismissively, then the corners of a mouth turned up in a sly grin.

"You're going to Isengard."

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**A/N: Sorry again about the wait. I don't even have a good excuse. Let me know what you think!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: And we're off to Isengard! I realize I took forever with this chapter, like always. It's a little bit shorter than normal but I felt bad for making you wait so long and I figured you'd rather take a shorter chapter than wait any longer for me to scrape out another thousand words. **

Boromir searched the crowd for Daphnaie as the king's escort left Helm's Deep, but she was nowhere in sight. That was strange. He'd expected her to see him off, but perhaps she was still upset with him. He sighed and maneuvered his horse over to Aragorn's, coming up on his left. Gimli sat with Legolas on Aragorn's right side. Boromir found their riding arrangement…amusing, but thought better than to comment on it. A small wagon with provisions and a few sensitive item's the Lady Eowyn did not trust with the main host travelling to Edoras rolled along smoothly pulled by another member of their party just behind Boromir.

Only about twenty men rode with Theoden on the road to Isengard. Boromir wasn't worried. He doubted they would have any trouble on the road. Saruman had sent nearly his entire host to Helm's deep, and any Uruk-Hai that had survived the battle likely died in the forest of Fangorn. A few hours after darkness had fallen, Boromir looked over at Aragorn

"How far have we ridden this night?" Aragorn was silent for a moment, looking ahead thoughtfully as though he could see all the way to Orthanc.

"Not very. The men are still weary from battle and move slowly." He turned his head toward Boromir. "I understand Theoden's desire to reach Isenguard quickly, but it would have been wiser to wait the night."

"The difficulty lies not in reaching Isengard, but in capturing that devil who holds it." Gimli's gravelly voice was unmistakable in the darkness. "I don't doubt he'll give us a merry chase." Aragorn did not seem as pleased by the prospect.

"If Saruman is yet in Isengard, he will be holed up in his tower. Easy enough to find but getting to Orthanc will be no simple task. It will be well defended. We should have brought more men."

"Do you think so, Lord Aragorn?" Gandalf called from up ahead. He didn't turn around in his saddle, but Boromir could tell he was smiling. "I would say our current party is unnecessarily large." The corners of Aragorn's mouth pulled up in a half smile.

"What do you mean?"

"I have a feeling it will not be so difficult to reach Orthanc as you think."

"And why do you say that?" To this, Gandalf did not reply.

"Very well. Keep your secrets, wizard." Aragorn sounded amused. "I expect we will find out soon enough."

"It is a cruel man who knows something his friends do not and keeps it to himself." Gimli said gruffly.

"You must consider a great many men cruel then, Gimli." Legolas said seriously, and Boromor shook his head. _Who ever heard of an elf that teased?_ "Please forgive me. But for a desire to reach Isengard sometime this age, I would happily stop here and tell you everything I know that you are ignorant of." The two fell into the sort of happy argument Boromir was beginning to expect from the strange pair. A few of the men riding near enough to hear the conversation laughed. Boromir turned his head sharply to look behind him. He thought he heard one laugh that was decidedly too feminine, but he saw nothing unusual as he looked around. He must have imagined it.

"We will make camp here for the night," Theoden called from the front. They had been riding through a forested area for hours but had come to a large clearing. As they made camp, sentries were posted and would be rotated out in shifts. Boromir shared a small tent with Aragorn near the King's tent. After eating a small dinner with the men, a very questionable stew and some bread, Boromir collapsed exhausted in the tent. He fell asleep almost immediately, still fully dressed in his riding pants and leathers.

He dreamt of white—glistening white towers and turrets, houses and walkways. He dreamt of his city, Minas Tirith, as it should have been. It was a clear summer day, the sky a perfect blue, more perfect than he'd ever seen it with his waking eyes. The eastern sky was unmarred by the black reek of Mordor. Boromir stood in the small courtyard just outside his chambers. There were books and papers stacked by one of the stone benches, not his though—Faramir's. It was a shared courtyard; Faramir's chambers were on the opposite end. Boromir almost never spent time there, but Faramir was always there, preferring to study outside in the fresh air.

Boromir walked over to stand by the bench and picked up the papers on the top of the stack. They were reports from Faramir's rangers. He began reading:

_Large force massing at Dol Guldir. Mirkwood and Lothlorien mounting defense. Success unlikely. Expect enemy forces on North by Northwest front. _

Frowning, Boromir moved on to one of the other pages.

_Easterlings headed north out of Mordor. Estimate size of host to be 200,000. Likely destinations—_

A strong wind ripped the page from Boromir's hand. He reached for it, but the wind carried it away and over the wall. The sky began to darken, not to the East but to the North. Black clouds rolled in, and the light of Minas Tirith was driven out. The wind blew harder, knocking over Faramir's books and sending papers flying. It felt to Boromir as if the wind had turned to icy hands shaking him back and forth.

"Boromir," a voice called.

Boromir jerked awake and found Aragorn's hand on his shoulder.

"It is your turn for the watch," he said simply, unaware of Boromir's distress. Boromir only nodded. He stood and left the tent lost in thought.

_It was only a dream. _He tried to comfort himself. But another dream haunted him. He had once dreamt of a voice saying "Isildur's Bane is found," and had that not proven true? _How can I ignore this dream with the memory of that other still fresh in my mind?_

He walked to the edge of camp and took his watch position, ready for a long, cold night.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o. o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o. o.o.o.o.

Daphnaie squeezed out of the barrel she'd spent too many hours cramped inside. As quietly as possible, she slid out of the wagon full of stuff Eowyn had insisted Theoden's riders take with them. Most of it wasn't really important—a few trinkets, some books, and one very reluctant former Dryad. Daphnaie breathed in the fresh air and looked around, sending a silent 'thank you' to the Valar that they were camped in the forest and not on the plains. Crouching nervously next to the wagon, she could see tents lined up and a fire with a few silhouettes still huddled around it. She had heard them talking earlier, so she knew there would be sentries posted around the camp, but how many and where they would be she was less certain of. She began her way out of the camp, stepping lightly and soundlessly. Stealth, at least, was something she was used to. She needed to stretch her legs and it had been a while since she'd been in a forest. She wanted to look around. As she crept further from the light of the fire, her eyes began to adjust to the darkness. Just outside the camp, where the trees met the edge of the clearing, she spotted the shape of a sentry peering out at the dark forest. _No Problem. _One man? She'd gone undiscovered by countless men. This was hardly a challenge. She walked forward.

The sentry's head snapped towards her.

_What? That's not possible! _The man took a few lithe steps in her direction, and Daphnaie noticed some things about him. He was thin, much thinner than the average Rohirric soldier, and he walked too lightly to be wearing the heavy leathers they favored. She saw the outline of a bow in his hand—a long bow. The Rohirrim didn't carry long bows as they couldn't be fired from horseback. Daphnaie's stomach dropped. _It must be the elf! _She thought panicking. One of the Rohirrim she could get passed easily but the elf?

_Okay, deep breath. You have to sneak past him. It's either that or crawl back into the barrel for the rest of the night. _Her back ached at the thought, and she made her decision. She dug her bare toes into the soft earth thankful that Eowyn had suggested she pack her boots and some spare clothes in a separate container in order to fit more easily in the barrel. Reaching down, she grabbed a handful of dirt and began rubbing it on herself in order to dull the look of her exposed skin. Then she stood still and waited a moment. The wind blew her long hair to her left side. She would need to move with the wind, so it wouldn't carry her scent toward the elf. Next came the scary part: actually moving.

The elf was standing in the same place he had been, glancing around the forest. She walked left, away from him, finding the open spaces of the forest floor. The elf didn't react. Feeling braver, she picked up the pace. For another quarter mile, she took swift, long strides until the elf became a small dark spot in the distance.

A loud rustling made her freeze mid-stride. The brush beside her shook, and birds flew up from the forest floor, past the tree tops and out into the night.

_Oh no, oh no, oh no. _Heart pounding in her ears like drums, she forced herself to turn and look back behind her.

The elf was gone.

_Run! _Every instinct screamed at her, but she stayed where she was. _Do something! Move! _ She stood for just a moment longer, then 3,000 years of conditioning took over.

-_No. Can't Run. Too Loud. _

_-Then what? _

_-Hide!_

_-Where? _She looked around but there were only small bushes around her.

-_Small bushes and _trees _you fool! _

_-Oh. Right. _She looked to the nearest tree. The lowest branch was a good distance off the ground. _Deep breath. Go! _She bent her knees and leapt forward.

Right. Left. Together. Up. She stretched and caught the branch in her right hand. Using her forward momentum, she swung around and landed on top of the branch in a crouch. She didn't pause there, but immediately sprang up to the next branch and the next into denser foliage. When she felt she was in a good spot outside the light cast by the moon, Daphnaie stilled. Keeping as much of herself hidden by the leaves as possible, she tried to slow her breathing.

_Calm down. He won't find you, but you must calm down. _Any sound, any movement could get herself caught. Daphnaie shuddered involuntarily. Eowyn hadn't warned her what might happen if she was discovered. Would they call her a spy again? Would they hurt her? _Oh what did I even leave the camp for?_

She was invisible by the time the elf appeared below her moments later. She didn't hear his approach, he was as silent as she, but his blonde hair shone in the moonlight. Eyes wide, she watched him survey the area. She feared if she even blinked, he would find her. He walked around slowly, crouching here and there to examine the forest floor. She willed herself not to shake when he approached her tree.

_I am the tree. I am the tree._ She thought to herself.He gazed upwards. She didn't so much as flinch. After circling the tree twice more—_Valar, he was persistent!—_he left, walking back towards the camp.

She waited up in the tree maybe half an hour before deciding it was safe to climb down. Back on the ground she had to stifle a yawn. She was coming down from her adrenaline high, and she suddenly felt so tired. She looked back towards the direction of the camp, made a 90 degree turn, and set out again.

Soon enough she came to a place where the earth felt smoother under her feet. She realized it must have been a dried up river bed. Gently, she sat down and dug her toes into the sand. Her whole body relaxed., and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally feeling at ease, she took a moment to examine the trees. They were so…strange, so different from the ones she was used to. They watched her just as she watched them. They were amazing—gnarled and twisted and ancient. _This is why I left the camp: To see this. _She wondered how old they were. Older than her? Probably. They could be many thousands of years old. They could live a thousand more years. If they weren't cut down or lit on fire, if they didn't die of sickness, and they got enough water, they could just keep living on and on and on. They were just as immortal as the elves, just as immortal as she had once been. What would they say, if she could talk to them as she had her old forest? What could they tell her? Her eyes scanned the warped branches and took in the oppressiveness of the canopy up above. These were crooked, bitter trees. They would speak of nothing pleasant or wholesome, but….still she would listen if she could.

"They are so strange, are they not? I have never seen trees like these in all my years." Daphnaie scrambled up from the ground and turned to the voice.

_Fool! You should not have sat out in the open. _

"But I suppose you are older than me, hmm? Have you ever seen trees like these?" The elf smiled handsomely and took a silent step towards her.

**A/N: Annnnnd Cliff! Oops;)**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: It's been over a year but I am back. Here's a brand new chapter. Please let me know if you like it. Enjoy!**

She stood very still and looked at the ground.

_Maybe if I ignore him, he'll just leave. _

"Why are you wandering alone in these forests? These are dangerous times."

She looked up at him. The elf was tall and pale, like all elves, his long, white hair pulled back from his face by braids. He carried a slim blade and a bow but had neither drawn. His eyes widened just a little when he saw her.

"Impossible." He was giving her the strangest look. "You have not aged a day." He said astonished. "All this time, I never knew your fate and here you stand just as you were. How?"

_What? _

"You must have me confused with someone else." She said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"No, I'm certain I do not, Daphnaie." Daphnaie's eyebrows shot up to her hairline in shock.

"You know me? Who are you?" She said, her voice unusually high.

"The last time I saw you was in Imladris."

"Rivendell?" She said, now thoroughly confused. "I've never been to Rivendell."

"You don't remember?" He said stepping toward her. She shrunk back from him, worried what he might do. He saw her shy away and sighed.

"Very well, perhaps I…was mistaken." He did not sound like he truly believed he was wrong. "Regardless, I need to know what you are doing here."

"I'm not in the habit of answering questions from strangers." She meant to sound intimidating. Unfortunately, her voice shook.

"Fair enough," he conceded with a bow of the head, but she thought she saw a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. "I am Haldir, Marchwarden of Lórien."

_Golden hair blowing in the wind. Laughing blue eyes looking at her. The sound of waterfalls in the distance. _

"_Let's have a contest." She said notching an arrow. "Who's the better shot." _

"_I do not think that Lord Elrond would appreciate us firing arrows outside of the practice grounds." Haldir answered. _

"_What's the matter, Haldir? Afraid I'll win?" _

"_I would prefer you call me Marchwarden." He said smirking. _

"_Always with the titles." She laughed._

"Always with the titles" Daphnaie whispered, coming out of her reverie. Haldir heard.

"Yes." He said with a small smile.

"Anyways," she said abruptly, not wanting to think about why he suddenly seemed so familiar. "I'm traveling with a small party of men to Isengard.

"What business do you have in Isengard?" Haldir asked. Daphnaie felt momentarily guilty about revealing details of the company, but somehow she knew she could trust Haldir.

"We intend to capture Saruman. Gandalf has questions for him concerning the plans of the enemy." Haldir perked up at the mention of Gandalf.

"Mithrandir? How far from here is he? I greatly desire to speak with him." Daphnaie sighed inwardly.

_Of course that's why he's here. Everyone desires to see Gandalf. I should open with "I know Gandalf" whenever I meet new people. _

"Not far at all. He's just a few minutes that way," she said pointing in the direction of the camp.

"Excellent," he said walking towards her. "Lead the way." She forced a smile.

"Of course." She said.

_Oh, Valar! What am I going to do now?_

Slowly, she led Haldir back towards the camp, stopping before she got too close.

"It's just over there." She said pointing.

"Very well." Haldir nodded. A few moments passed. "…Let's not delay." He said. Daphnaie didn't move.

"Why don't you go on ahead? I think I'll continue my walk." Haldir looked concerned.

"My lady, it's not safe. You should rejoin the others."

"No, no really I'll be quite alright." She said shuffling away.

_Say something! Say anything! Lie! _

"I'm not supposed to be here." She said in a rush.

_Idiot. _

"Explain," Haldir said in a hard voice.

"I…I…"

"Be quick." He demanded. Daphnaie clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking.

"I had requested to join King Theoden's company but was denied. The Lady Eowyn of Rohan was rather adamant I go, however, and found another way…"

"You stowed away?" Daphnaie hung her head embarrassed. When she looked up again, she thought she saw the remnant of a smile just fading from his lips. After a moment of consideration, he spoke again. "Well I don't believe you pose any threat to this company."

_That's a first, _she thought with some relief.

"But I can't leave you alone either. I meant what I said before. These are dangerous times." Daphnaie's heart sank. Haldir unclasped his cloak and held it out to her. "Here. Put the hood up and don't say a word. The men of the camp with believe you came with me." Daphnaie could only nod in response. She was a strange mixture of relieved and petrified. Together she and Haldir strode purposefully into camp, so silent and blending so well into the night that they were able to slip unseen past the sentries. Many men were still sitting merrily around the fire, laughing and talking together.

"How easy it is to slip past men. Is this how you protect your king?" Haldir said. Shocked, the soldiers quickly stood and drew their broad swords noisily from their sheaths. Daphnaie peered nervously over at Haldir. He merely smiled and held out his hands palms up.

"Luckily, I mean you no harm." He said simply. There was a tense moment when no one said a word.

"Well elf, what a pleasure to see you again." A voice called out not sounding at all pleased. Haldir made a show of looking around for the source of the voice before pointedly looking down.

"Ah, master dwarf. Forgive me, I did not see you." He said, still smiling pleasantly.

"What business brings you so far South." Gimli growled.

"I must speak with Gandalf. The war in the North goes ill." Gimli frowned.

"The war in the _South_ goes ill," he said unsympathetically. "I don't know what you want with the wizard, but he is needed _here."_

"That's enough Gimli," Aragorn said walking up to the scene. He gestured for the men to lower their weapons. "My friend," he said to Haldir grasping his forearm. "What news?"

"It is good to see you well. I bring news of the North, and I seek the council of Mithrandir. Please take me to him." Daphnaie saw Gimli roll his eyes, but Aragorn nodded.

"Of course." He looked down at the dwarf. Gimli, get Theoden and Legolas. This way," He said addressing Haldir. At this point Aragorn noticed Daphnaie for the first time. He said something to her in Elvish, but Daphnaie did not understand. Hoping it wasn't a question, she simply bowed her head a bit. This seemed to satisfy him, for he turned and led the way across the camp to Gandalf's tent. Aragorn held the tent flap open for her and Haldir then stepped in after them. Gandalf was standing over a table covered in maps and books and other papers. He glanced up when they entered.

"Haldir? I never thought to see you so far from Lothlorien."

"This war has changed many of my plans." He said gravely. Then his whole demeanor changed and he spoke something in Elvish. Another greeting Daphnaie surmised. "Word of your return was the happiest news Lothlorian has had in a long time."

"Thank you, my friend," he said," but tell me of why you have come."

"I come seeking your council. Yours too would be most welcome." He said looking at Aragorn. Just then, Gimli, Legolas, and Theoden entered the tent.

"What is going on?" Theoden demanded looking at Gandalf.

"This is Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlorien." Gandalf said. "And this is Theoden, Lord of Rohan."

"An honor." Haldir said simply.

"Likewise," Theoden replied.

"Haldir brings news from the North." Gandalf said. At this, Haldir stepped forward and looked at the maps.

"Lothlorien will soon be under siege. My scouts have reported a large force moving from Dol Guldur." He gestured at the map. "I estimate they will reach our borders in 7 days." Gandalf frowned.

"Will there be no aid from Thranduil?" Legolas asked. "I know my father prefers not to leave the Woodland realm, but surely he would not turn his back on Galadriel." Haldir looked sadly at Legolas.

"I am sorry Legolas, but the Woodland realm faces its own threat. 10,000 orcs of Dol Guldur and Mordor are headed towards them, and Sauron is massing a force of 200,000 Easterlings to take the North. If they make it past Dale and Erebor, then they will make straight for Thranduil's realm." Legolas' face was carefully expressionless.

"Gimli, how strong is Erebor?" Gandalf asked.

"We will not lose Erebor again. They will hold." Gimli said stone-faced.

"But how many dwarves are there? Are they supplied enough to withstand a siege?" Haldir asked.

"I've told you they'll hold, and they will." Gimli said darkening.

"Shall I take your word for it then? Risk the lives of my kin, because you were too stubborn too-."

"Enough, Haldir." Gandalf said. "Gimli, please." Gimli glowered.

"Erebor has an army of 30,000, and the men of Dale would be another 20,000. Erebor is a well-stocked fortress. Its walls house the finest weapons and the bravest dwarves."

"But 50,000 against 200,000? Those odds are not in our favor." Haldir said.

"When are they ever?" Theoden added.

"Gimli, do you truly believe Erebor can withstand such a force?" Legolas asked. Gimli looked up at him.

"Aye." He said simply.

"Then let us move on for now." said Gandalf.

"Back to Lothlorian and the Woodland Realm. Can any men be spared to aid them?" Legolas addressed the group.

"Not from the Rohirrim." Theoden declared. "We cannot even protect our own borders." Legolas moved to argue but Aragorn rested a hand on his shoulder and whispered something in Elvish. Legolas frowned but backed down.

"So be it. What of Gondor then?" Haldir asked.

"Boromir could tell us best." Gandalf answered. Aragorn turned and said something in Elvish to Daphnaie. She caught Boromir's name, and from the way Aragorn was looking at her, she had the horrible feeling she had just been told to fetch him. This fear was confirmed with a small shove toward the exit from Haldir. She gave a small bow and left the tent.

Fetch Boromir? There was no way he wouldn't recognize her.What was she going to do? She thought back to her barrel and how foolish she was to ever leave it. Then it hit her. She began walking toward the wagon. There was probably someone guarding that wagon. She'd just tell him to find Boromir.She pulled her hood lower as she passed the men still sitting around the fire_. _

_Then I'll crawl back in my barrel and never crawl out again. _It got drastically darker as she left the vicinity of the fire, and approached the wagon. _No one will ever have to know I was here. Eowyn might be upset that I didn't see more, but she'll just have to—_

She tripped over something resting against the wagon and fell unceremoniously on top of it. In seconds, it (or rather, he, she soon discovered) had rolled on top of her. His weight was crushing and he was pinning her arms down.

"Forgive me." She gasped. "I was only—"

"Daphnaie?" The voice said shocked.

_Unbelievable. _

"Boromir?" She whispered.

"What are you doing here?" He whispered back angrily. She could feel his warm breath on her face.

"I can't breathe." She said.

"Oh," he rolled off of her. "Now, explain."

"I'm so sorry. Eowyn wanted to know of Isengard so she came up with a plan and had me stow away."

"The extra barrel?"

"Yes." Boromir hit the side of the wagon angrily.

"What were you thinking?"

"Boromir, please lower your voice. Someone will hear."

"This was dangerous and reckless. You shouldn't be here."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just did not want to disappoint Eowyn. I didn't know what to do." Boromir sighed, and stood up. "Are you very angry with me?" She said nervously.

"No." He offered her his hand, and helped her to her feet. "I'm just worried about you." He reached up to remove a leaf caught in her hair. His hand lingered on her cheek. "I just want you to be safe. You would have been safe at Edoras."

"Hardly." Daphnaie smiled. "Eowyn is there. No one is safe." Boromir laughed and dropped his hand.

"Come, Theoden must be told that you are here."

"What? No!" Daphnaie stepped back from him. "Just let me climb back in my barrel. Theoden never has to know. No-one does." Boromir shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Daphnaie. I can't allow that. If we are attacked, you'll be safer if the company knows you are here. I'll be right beside you. It will be okay."

"Oh very well, but does it have to be tonight? They're having a very important war council right now. I was supposed to be fetching you."

"What do you mean? I thought no one knew you were here."

"They don't. It's a long story." She said waving him off. "You should be at the meeting, though. Can't telling Theoden wait till the morning?" She pleaded.

"I don't like it, but I suppose it can wait."

"Oh, thank you. I—"

"I want you to stay in my tent, though." He said.

"What? Why?" She asked.

"Someone might check the wagon, but no-one will enter my tent without my leave." He took her arm and began leading her towards his tent.

"Doesn't it seem a little…" She hesitated.

"A little what?"

"Improper?" She was glad it was too dark for him to see her blush. He paused.

"I won't be joining you."

"Oh. You won't?" She was growing more embarrassed by the second.

"I'll sleep outside." He said simply.

"Won't people find that odd?"

"I don't think the men are really all that interested in my sleeping habits," he said smirking.

"Oh, right. Of course not." She said feeling ridiculous. They arrived at his tent, and he led her inside.

"Just promise me you won't leave this tent. Promise me you'll be here in the morning."

"I promise, Boromir." He stood there for a moment, not saying anything.

"What is it?" Daphnaie finally asked.

"I thought you were still angry with me." He said. She didn't expect that.

"When?"

"When we rode out from Helms Deep. I thought you'd see me off, and when you didn't, I thought you must still be upset with me."

"No," She said, and on impulse she reached out and took his hand. "No, I wasn't upset, I was just…"

"In a barrel." He finished.

"Haha, yes. I was in a barrel." He smiled.

"I must go. They will be wondering where I am."

"Goodnight." She said. He squeezed her hand, then left.

She looked around the tent. It was very simple, just a pad on the ground with some blankets and his pack serving as a pillow. She lied down and bundled up, suddenly feeling very tired. Her eyes closed and the world went black.

_Haldir stood just outside the dining hall on a balcony overlooking the valley of Imladris. _

"_Haldir, why don't you come back inside? There will be singing shortly." Daphnaie said walking up to him._

"_Thank you, but I don't much feel like songs tonight." _

"_I didn't see Glorfindel at all this evening. Has something happened?" _

"_We met with Lord Elrond this afternoon. He is sending hosts to Earnil and Cirdan. Glorfindel is busy making preparations." _

"_Oh." She said stunned. "When do you leave?" _

"_Tomorrow. Maybe even tonight." _

"_So soon?" She frowned and braced herself on the balcony railing. "Do not be afraid, Haldir. You knew this day was coming. You are ready." _

"_I am not afraid." He said, moving to stand beside her. "But I am hardly eager to go to battle. Angmar's forces are strong. It will not be an easy fight." _

"_But you will win it all the same." She said offering him a smile. "You will defeat Angmar and there will be peace again, and then I will be able to explore middle earth like I've always wanted, and you will be able to spend all day doing nothing except perhaps practicing your archery like you've always wanted." _

"_I do not spend all day doing nothing. I am a Marchwarden." _

"_Oh yes, I think I heard that somewhere." She said smirking. Haldir smiled but said nothing. _

"_Where is Glorfindel now? There is much I need to say." _

"_And I'm sure there is much he would like to say as well, but please, let him work. He has much to prepare." Daphnaie sighed. _

"_Very well, but please don't leave before I speak to him. Promise me he'll be here in the morning." _

"_I Promise." _

"I see you kept your promise."

Daphnaie awoke to see Boromir leaning in through the open tent flap, sunlight pouring in behind him.

"Come on. It's time to speak to Theoden, and I would rather the entire camp didn't see you leave my tent."

"Oh, of course. Coming." She hastily got up and followed Boromir towards Theoden's tent, attempting to flatten her hair into something reasonably presentable.

"I request an audience with the King." Boromir said to the guard outside Theoden's tent. The guard nodded and stepped inside for a moment. Daphnaie stared at the ground.

"Don't worry." Boromir whispered. "It's going to be fine." A moment later the guard opened the flap and beckoned them inside. Theoden was seated looking through an array of papers. He looked up when they entered and glowered.

"You. What are you doing here?" He said accusingly to Daphnaie. "I seem to remember telling you to go to Edoras with the rest of my people." Daphnaie stood frozen. "Well?"

"I..I.."

"Speak!" He commanded.

"I'm sorry my Lord, Eowyn…she…"

"Eowyn? What does she have to do with this?" Boromir stepped forward.

"Eowyn wanted to send word that they made it safely back to Edoras. She thought it might ease your mind to know. I have her message here." He held out a scroll to Theoden.

"That's all she had to say?" Theoden asked.

"Yes, my Lord." Boromir said simply.

"Very well, wake Eomer and rouse the camp. We should get moving."

"Yes, my Lord." Boromir tucked the scroll back in his tunic, and led Daphnaie out of the tent and on towards Eomer's tent.

"I think that went well." He said.

"Are you insane? Let me see that scroll." She demanded. He pulled it back out and handed it to her. She quickly unrolled it. "There's nothing written on this. It's just a blank piece of parchment."

"That's correct."

"Well how did you know he wouldn't want to look at it?"

"I didn't." Daphnaie shook her head in astonishment.

"You are incredibly lucky."

"I think you mean, _you _are incredibly lucky. You disobeyed the king and stowed away. And you just got away with it." Daphnaie came to a sudden halt.

"You're right." She said grinning widely. "I can't believe this. I got away with it. Thanks to you." She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.

"Well, don't thank me just yet," He said as she released him from the hug. "I didn't get you out of going to Isengard , and that might not be the enjoyable experience you're hoping for."

"Yes well, I think I'm up for it." She said still smiling. They resumed walking.

"Yes, I think you just might be."

END


End file.
